


If You're Going Through Hell, Keep on Going

by baloobird



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Bullying, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Justice System Inaccuracies, Kid Peter Parker, Medical Inaccuracies, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Therapist!Tony, Therapy, Therapy Inaccuracies, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony-centric, it's not graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2019-12-25 22:30:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18270500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baloobird/pseuds/baloobird
Summary: In a world with no superheroes or powers, Tony Stark turns over a new leaf after his plight with Afghanistan. He goes to therapy and it changes his life, so much so that he decides to open up his own practice and help people that are like him.His newest client: Eight-year-old Peter ParkerLittle did he know that he would actually become attached to one of his patients.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> READ THE TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING PLEASE!  
> I know the tags are heavy, and it is strong subject matter, but I promise you that it won't be graphic. This story is focusing more on the recovery aspect than the abuse itself, so the references to it will be more vague.
> 
> Also, I'm not gonna pretend that I'm an expert with therapy, so I can bet my life savings that there will be inaccuracies. I will be researching more as the story progresses, but...I hope y'all roll with it XD
> 
> Anyway, I'm so freaking excited for this and I really hope you like it!!!

If someone told Tony a couple of decades ago that he'd abandon his duties at Stark Industries to start his own psychology practice, he'd probably ask what the fuck they're smoking and if he can have some.

Yet, that is exactly where he is now. He’s currently sitting at a desk behind his sleek nameplate listening to messages from potential clients.

His decision to go into psychology may seem to be one of complete spontaneity, but Tony never felt more right in this career change.

He had everything going in his life before the drastic change: a successful business, fame, fortune, and he could have any man or woman he wanted. All it took was a simple wink and they'd swoon.

But all of that changed at the speed of said simple wink.

After spending three months held hostage in a cave by terrorists, it’d be impossible to come out of there and not have repercussions. 

He tried to get his life back to normal, he really did. He shut down the weapons division of SI, and when Obadiah Stane tried to take over the company, Tony took him down. But something still felt...off.

His mental health took a hit after Afghanistan, that much is obvious. Sleep became far less frequent and the nightmares a lot more prominent.

After a particular nightmare that scared him so much that he fell off his bed, he finally said to himself, “I think I need help.”

And got help, he did.

It was slow-going... _very_ slow-going. Tony almost quit a few times because he was convinced that none of it was working. But Rhodey egged him on, and he’s so glad that he did.

His doctor prescribed him with a light dosage of sleeping pills. He hates pills and hates the thought of having to rely on little capsules of medicine in order to function as a human being.

But he took them.

And no one is more surprised than him to find that they actually worked; he was impressed.

Slowly, but surely, he found more sleep. 

Slowly, but surely, he figured out how to function again.

And slowly, but surely, he figured out that he didn’t want to run SI anymore.

Oftentimes, after he got home from his sessions, he found himself spending hours on his StarkPad researching the brain, the mind, how they work, how a brain would function after trauma, and so many other things that he can’t look away from.

He became almost fascinated by it.

And he’s going to someone who’s helping him try and put his brain back together. 

_How does one put another’s brain back together?_

Tony ordered books. Lots of books. If someone walked into his lab, they would assume that a public library threw up in there.

Psychology, neurology, biology, dreams, cognitive science, and so many other terms that Tony knew, but he never really _knew_.

Before he knew it, he was looking into the Department of Brain and Cognitive Sciences at MIT. That was when he stopped himself.

This is ridiculous. It’s not like he’ll ever do anything like this. He’s Tony Stark, for God’s sake, he’s not meant for this; he doesn’t actually _want_ to do this.

Does he?

He just likes reading about it. Tons of people read about random shit online.

He likes learning about it; every time he cracks open another book, he finds out something else that he never knew and it’s so exciting to read. But still, he doesn’t actually _want_ to do this.

He just likes reading about it, learning it, and thinking about using it to help other people. The thought of so many other people suffering in their own mind, like him, makes him sick to his stomach.

_Holy shit._

Maybe he _does_ actually want to do this.

He sits on this for a few weeks. He needs to make sure that he actually wants to do this and isn't just getting caught up in the moment. But the more he thought about it, the more he wants to do it.

Something about this feels right in some capacity.

When Tony confides in Rhodey about this for the first time, his friend actually laughs. He thought the genius was joking. 

When he sees that Tony isn't laughing, Rhodey turns confused, “Wait, you're serious about this?”

After a brief pause, Tony responds, “Yeah...am I crazy?”

“Well, yeah, you are, but if you wanna do this, man, then do it. You're _Tony Stark_ , you’re more than capable.”

“I know, but...it's not what I'm used to; it’s not exactly in my ‘comfort zone.’ And what if I suck at it?”

“If it doesn't work out, you always have the company to fall back on. But if you feel this passionate about it, then I have a feeling that you're not gonna suck.”

“Okay, okay...I'll think about it.”

“Uh-uh, seems to me like you already thought about it, Tones. You're either gonna do it, or I'm just gonna _make_ you do it.”

Tony softly chuckles and raises his hands in mock surrender, “Alright, alright, I'm doing it.”

-

A couple of degrees and a Ph.D. later, he's sitting at his desk in an office building that he rented. He could’ve easily bought the building, but why bother?

Tony’s had his own practice for about a year and a half now and he has absolutely no regrets. He made Pepper CEO, and he has made himself a silent partner of Stark Industries so that he’s still connected to his company without all the mundane work.

Of course, there was an uproar when the world found out about the famous “Tony Stark” going into the medical field, of all things, but it calmed down quickly once people saw that Tony didn’t give a shit about what they thought.

He became popular quickly after he opened, not just in his pre-existing fame, but in the practice, itself. He made sure that his services were affordable and always worked with the patients’ income level. When Tony went to therapy, he was paying about $200 per session - which is perfectly fine for a billionaire like him - but he knew that most people cannot afford that luxury.

Tony originally wanted to make his services free because he doesn’t actually need the money, but Rhodey strongly advised against it. He said that people would be flocking left and right to the place, which could put a strain on the doctor’s own mental health.

Tony loves talking to the patients. He’s had so many different people walk in and out of the office like former soldiers having a hard time adjusting to life after being overseas, or people with anxiety and depression who could never afford help until now, just to name a few. He’s even had people come in just to talk about their day and de-stress from their busy work lives.

Tony sticks by his belief that everyone deserves to talk to someone about anything. Even people without any mental health issues always need to get something off their chest.

It's the end of another work day and Tony is listening to messages on the answering machine. Some days, he can get close to a dozen messages, other days he won't get any. He skips the first few that are just telemarketers - being on the national “Do Not Call” list is working _splendidly_ \- but it's the last message he gets that makes his ears perk up.

_Hello, Dr. Stark? Um, my name is May Parker. Uh, I'm calling on behalf of my nephew, Peter; he's, uh...he's been through a lot over the last several months, and um...my husband and I are hoping to schedule a consultation of some sort with you? He's been to other doctors, but none of them have worked out, and we really, really hope that you'd, uh...you’d be able to help him. Please call me back at (917) 555-5734 whenever you can. Thank you...bye._

Tony hums in concentration. Weird that she didn't explain why her nephew needs help. She sounded almost...desperate.

What the hell happened?

He probably ought to just delete the message. She didn't even explain why her nephew needs help so badly. Or was the experience so traumatic that she didn't feel right to explain it in a voicemail? Why is she calling on behalf of her nephew anyway, doesn't he have parents? Judging by the message, she sounds young, so he assumes that the nephew is young, too.

Maybe that's why he needs help. Did something happen to his parents?

Tony listens to the message a couple more times. His curiosity soon wins out and he calls her back to schedule an appointment. 

It's only a free consultation. If he doesn't feel right afterward, he can always politely decline.

It can't hurt to at least listen to them, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The heavier tags start to come to fruition here, be careful!

A couple of days later, Tony is sitting at his desk with a young, attractive-looking couple sitting in chairs in front of him, hands intertwined.

After making their introductions, May speaks up first, “Thank you so much for meeting with us, Dr. Stark.”

“Of course, I just hope I can help.”

“Us too.”

Tony settles fully into his seat, notebook and pen at the ready, “So, what I got from your voicemail and our brief phone call, this is all regarding your nephew, correct?”

May’s husband, Ben, answers, “Yeah, Peter, he’s our-he’s our, uh, eight-year-old.”

Tony hums, “Okay, you didn't want to tell me over the phone why he needs help, but before we get into that, I would like to get a little bit of background if that’s possible. How did you come into guardianship with your nephew?”

Ben responds, “Yeah, yeah, of course. His parents, my brother and his wife, uh, past away in a plane crash a couple years ago. Um, we’re...we’re the only family he’s got left.”

May adds on, “He’s a sweet boy, such an angel.”

Tony sees a look of sadness cross over the couple and he can’t help but feel guilty about making them bring up this subject. He can’t imagine how the kid feels, losing his parents so young.

“I am so sorry for your loss, I hate that I made you bring that up.”

May responds, “No, no, that’s okay, really. Honestly, we were expecting it.”

“How is Peter adjusting?”

May answers again, “He’s-He’s actually been really good -”

Ben cuts in, “A little trooper.”

May continues, “Yes, yes, he has been a little trooper. That’s...that’s a good description.”

Tony’s eyebrows narrow in confusion. If the kid has adjusted to this well enough, then why are they here?

“That’s great to hear. Did he have some sort of relapse or did something trigger him or -”

Ben cuts Tony off, “No, uh...that’s not….” The man lets out a deep sigh before continuing, “That’s not why we’re here.”

The doctor’s eyebrows raise in alarm. He sees the grip in the couple’s hands tighten and has a feeling deep down in his gut that whatever they’re about to say, he is most definitely not prepared for it.

The uncle swallows a lump in his throat before he starts, “About, uh...eight-ish months ago, we decided to go out for a date night. There’s this high school kid who lived a couple floors above us, so we got him to watch Peter for a few hours.”

May then picks up the conversation, “Everything was great. Peter wouldn’t stop talking about him, about how he’s friends with a ‘big kid’ now and how much fun they had.” She smiles a little at the memory but it quickly fades away, “With me being a nurse, and my husband a cop, we have really weird, unreliable hours; so when school started back, we decided to hire this guy to babysit Peter after school instead of having the bus drop him off at daycare. Over the next couple of months, Peter started...getting quiet.”

The woman has tightened her grip so much that her knuckles have turned white. Her husband places his other hand over their grip to act as another form of comfort. 

Tony is in this funk of wanting them to get to the point but also never wanting this story to end. What the fuck did this guy do to their kid?

Ben picks the conversation back up, “Peter started getting skittish, having nightmares. He was like this after his parents died, so we thought the same thing you did; maybe it was some sort of relapse.” 

May adds on, “He wouldn’t talk to us, we couldn’t figure out what’s wrong.”

She covers her mouth to try and hold back a sniffle but fails. Even Ben looks like he’s struggling.

Tony doesn’t say a word.

Ben tightens his grip on his wife’s hand and shakily continues, “A...a few months after that...we found out what happened.”

May’s sniffles increase.

Ben continues, “Skip - that’s the babysitter,” the man says the name like it’s acid, “Has been... _abusing_ our kid.” He lets go of May’s hand and abruptly gets up from his seat to go stand in front of a window that’s on the other side of the room.

Tony feels a chill go down his spine. He’s praying that what happened wasn’t the worst case scenario that just formed in his head, “So this Skip guy, he, uh, he has been bullying Peter? Hitting him or -”

May does her best to collect herself, “God, I wish that was what happened.”

Ben is facing the window, “No...it’s the... _other_ type of abuse.”

_Shit shit shit shit shit._

Tony now understands why they didn’t mention this over the phone. He can barely think straight himself, “I...I am so sorry.”

May looks up with watery eyes, “We’ve taken him to other counselors and therapists to...to get him better, but...nothing. He refuses to talk about it.”

The doctor can feel his heart clench in his chest. He honestly cannot imagine what this kid has gone through, “How-How bad did the abuse get?”

Tony hears Ben let out a deep sigh.

_Please don’t say it, please don’t fucking say it._

Ben’s gaze never falters from the window, “The worst…. The worst that it can get.”

Tony swallows back the bile that formed in his stomach and runs his hand through his hair in concentration. This is all so completely out of his wheelhouse. 

The genius takes a moment to collect himself before he asks, “If he’s refused to talk about it, then how did you find out?”

May starts fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, “He didn’t tell us...his friend, Ned, did. He said that Peter was too scared to tell us, so he did it for him.”

Tony's eyes widen, "Wow, that's, uh, that's one hell of a friend he's got there."

"Yeah, he's a-he’s a really sweet kid."

"So...where's this guy now?"

Ben turns from the window. Tony sees that the man won't stop clenching and unclenching his fists, "We don't know."

Tony's blood runs cold, "Wait, he's not in jail?"

May confirms with a shake of her head, "No...no he's not. We went forward with proceedings but Peter wouldn't say anything. He had a panic attack when we took him to the hospital, a _panic attack_ , Dr. Stark. There…there wasn't enough evidence to convict him."

Ben chips in, “Skip’s parents said that he took off after the hearing; he hasn’t been back to school, left his phone, debit card, the works. They swore that if they hear anything, they’ll tell us.”

May adds on, "We filed a restraining order against him...and we even moved away. We live in Queens now."

Tony responds, "Queens? You guys drove a ways to get here."

Ben speaks up again, "Yeah, but we don't care about that; we'd go all the way across the world if it means that our kid will get better. We've sent Peter to multiple therapists, but all of them turned us down after a few sessions. Like May said before: he just won't talk about it."

May chimes in, "And plus, you really fit in with our budget. So we were thinking that maybe...hopefully...you can help him?"

Tony takes a good look at the two of them. He ought to go ahead and say “no.” He knows he should. The kid should be taken to someone who specializes in this, not to someone who's still kinda new to the scene. 

He's helped rape survivors before, and he's helped children before...but a child who's also rape survivor? That is a huge load, to say the least.

Tony is about to politely decline when he looks at them again. Ben has walked back over and sat next to his wife, their hands intertwined like they were at the start of the meeting.

Tony glances down at his notebook which is now filled with his chicken scratch handwriting and scribbles. He then looks back up at the couple, “Give me some time, I want to look over my notes before I make a decision. I promise you that I'll call sometime between today and tomorrow.”

May stands up and her husband follows suit, “Of course, Dr. Stark. Thank you, thank you so much for taking the time to see us.”

Tony stands up as well and shakes their hands before walking them to the door, “Of course, Mrs. Parker, have a safe trip back.”

Ben answers before they walk out the door, “Thank you. Please call as soon as you can.”

“I will, I promise.”

They say their “goodbyes” and when the door closes, Tony takes in and lets out a deep breath. 

_Holy shit._

-

It's the end of the day and Tony has been looking at his notes and various other resources for over an hour now.

He wants to help them, he really does, but he honestly doesn't know if he's the right person for them. 

He hasn't even been in this field for two years. Yes, he did go to school for it but taking classes on what to do and actually practicing what you're taught are two completely different things; the latter being unsure if he's ready or not.

And this is a _kid_ , a kid who went through something so traumatic that it puts the man's time in Afghanistan to shame. And his guardians are relying on him to help him heal.

Can he do it?

The logical part of Tony's brain says “no.” He shouldn't take them in as a client, because if he's not sure he can help them, then it probably means that he can't. 

But the empathetic part of his brain - the part of his brain that made him go into this field, to begin with - is telling him to stop overthinking and just go for it. 

_Should_ he go for it?

No, he shouldn't, he can't help the kid if he doesn't know what to do.

But maybe he actually does know what to do and he needs this case to help him realize it.

But it's probably not a good idea.

But he could also help a kid heal.

He lets out a grunt of frustration and before he knows it, his body is deciding for him and dialing the number on his phone.

“Hey, Mrs. Parker, this is Tony Stark. How does next Wednesday at four sound?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony meets Peter in the next chapter, I promise!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite duo finally meet in this one, enjoy!!!

The following Wednesday arrives far too quickly for Tony.

He's not dreading the session, he's just...nervous about it; he doesn't like not knowing what's going to happen or what to expect. 

On second thought, maybe he _is_ dreading it.

Tony has sessions with a few clients throughout the day and before he knows it, it's four o'clock and he's opening his door to check if they're here.

He sees May sitting on the couch that’s outside the door. Sitting next to her is a little boy with glasses and he’s fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. She’s ruffling the boy’s hair in what looks like an effort to keep him calm.

May gets up when Tony opens the door and has her nephew do the same. She has a genuine smile on her face, but the nervousness is definitely there.

Tony puts on a smile himself and guides them into the room. The adults shake hands and say their greetings as they walk in. The kid is clinging to his aunt and even has a couple of fingers wrapped around a belt loop on the back of her jeans.

Tony is about to close the door when May stops him, “Oh, I’m sorry, sir, but is it okay if we keep the door cracked? Um, Peter doesn’t like having doors closed.” She ruffles her kid’s hair again and the boy’s face is submerged completely into the side of his aunt’s shirt.

Tony wasn't expecting that but he doesn't mind, “Yeah, of course, no problem at all.”

Tony closes the door, but only until he can still see a slight crack of the hallway. He guides the Parkers over to the couch on the other side of the room before settling into a chair across from them. The only thing separating the two parties is a coffee table.

May speaks up first, “Peter, this is Dr. Stark, do you want to say ‘hi’?”

Peter scoots on the couch until he's sitting right next to May. After a couple of seconds, he shyly looks up from the fidgeting hands in his lap, “H-Hi, hi, Mr. Stark.”

Tony can’t get over how adorable Peter is; he just wants to pinch the kid’s cheeks and put him in his pocket.

May corrects Peter, “Oh, it’s _Doctor_ Stark, sweetie -”

The man gently cuts in, “That’s okay, he can call me ‘Mr. Stark,’ I don’t mind.” He looks at Peter and gives him a soft smile, “It’s very nice to meet you, Peter.”

The child looks up at his aunt with nervousness, “Um...you’ve never taken me to see a _boy_ doctor before….”

May and Tony both share a look of shock.

_Shit._

Tony didn’t even think about that. With Peter’s history, it would make complete sense for him to be more wary of talking to a man than a woman. Especially since their future sessions won’t have his aunt or uncle in the room with them.

_Stupid stupid stupid._

May does damage control, “Don’t worry, sweetie, Uncle Ben and I both have talked to him several times. He just wants to help, that's all.”

Tony uses his quick thinking to his advantage, “Yeah, and one thing that your aunt and I have talked about is this coffee table.” He shares a brief look with May that says “roll with it” before continuing, “This table is gonna be a divider. While you're here, I promise that I won’t cross this table at any point unless you want me to.”

Peter takes a good look at the coffee table, almost like he’s studying it. He looks back up at Tony after a few seconds, “Do you really promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” The man even makes criss-cross strokes over his heart to reinforce the promise.

That seems to satisfy the kid enough that he nods his head, but the shyness doesn’t falter.

The adults both let out a silent sigh of relief. Well, that’s one obstacle out of the way, at least.

One thing that Tony has learned from having children as patients is to always start out slow. He doesn’t want to force the child to talk, but instead, he wants the child to be comfortable enough to open up. He’ll get more information and insight if the child willingly opens up rather than forcing them to give the bare minimum, “So, how was school today?”

Peter raises an eyebrow in confusion. Tony can tell that he wasn’t expecting such a casual question, “Um...fine? I guess?”

The man sits back in his chair and even slumps down a little bit to look as non-threatening as possible, “You’re at a new school now, right? How’s all of that going, have you made any new friends?”

The boy and shakes his head, “Um, no, not really...I’m not really good at making friends.”

May comfortingly rubs Peter’s back, “He’s a bit on the shy side.”

Tony hums, “Nothing wrong with that. Better to hold out for a ‘stormy-weather’ friend than make fifty ‘fair-weather’ friends, that’s what I always say.”

_You've never said anything like that, what in the literal fuck, Tony?_

Peter is even more confused, “Why would I want one bad friend over fifty good friends?”

“Actually, a ‘stormy-weather’ friend is a lot better friend to have. It means that they’ll stick with you, even through the bad times. ‘Fair-weather’ friends are only there for the good times but they won’t be there for you when times get bad.”

“Oh...well I already got a ‘stormy-weather’ friend, I don’t want another one.” Peter looks up at May, “I miss Ned.”

May ruffles her kid’s hair in comfort, “I know you do, baby. Don’t worry, you’ll see him this weekend.”

Peter whines, “But that’s forever away….”

“No, it’s not, I promise. It’ll be here before you know it.”

Tony sees an opening and takes it, “So, you got a ‘stormy-weather’ friend?”

Peter’s eyes light right up, “Yeah! His name’s Ned.”

Tony can't help but smile at the child's newfound enthusiasm, “Oh yeah? What’s he like?”

The kid’s smile grows a mile wide, “He’s _awesome_. He’s so much fun! We used play legos like all the time and he got me into Star Wars and he has these lightsabers that we’ll run all over the house with. And whenever I stay at his house or if he stays at mine, we always build a pillow fort and watch movies or play legos or board games or literally anything. Before we moved, we always sat together at lunch and we always switch our fruit that our parents give us. He doesn’t like apples and I don’t like oranges, so it’s a ‘win-win.’”

May is both shocked and amused at how much her nephew has said over a span of only a minute, “Sweetheart, you could’ve just said that you don’t like oranges.”

Peter looks up at his aunt, “But _Maaaaay_ , it wouldn’t be a ‘win-win’ anymore if _both_ of us bring apples. What fruit would Ned eat then?”

May covers her mouth to stifle a giggle. Tony has to look away to do the same.

Tony actually could not feel happier right now. The kid isn’t talking about _that_ topic, of course, but the kid is talking, and that's the main thing that he wanted to get out of this first session.

What makes the man feel especially happy, though, is _how_ the kid is talking. At the mention of his friend, his eyes immediately lit up and he starts talking with no filter. The essence of him just being a kid is still there.

The _innocence_ is still there. 

That’s a good sign. A very good sign, in fact.

-

The hour goes by unexpectedly quickly and the timer soon dings which signals the end of the session.

During the rest of that hour, Peter’s time was spent talking mostly about Ned. To Tony’s surprise, he even mentioned a couple other classmates at his new school, like one who always smells like onions for some reason, or another who always picks her nose when she thinks that no one is looking.

Tony honestly shouldn’t be this entertained by an eight-year-old but damn, how does someone _always_ smell like onions?

The three of them get up from their seats and make their way to the door. May looks down at Peter, “Sweetie, I need to talk to Dr. Stark, can you wait outside for just a minute?”

Peter nods his head and waves at Tony, “Bye, Mr. Stark.”

Tony smiles at him, “Bye, Peter, I’ll see you next Wednesday, okay?”

The kid nods his head as he’s leaving and he closes the door behind him, but not all the way. The adults sit in their respective seats with Tony at his desk and May in a chair in front of him.

Tony speaks up first, a smile still plastered on his face, “He seems like a really sweet kid.”

May gushes, “He is, isn’t he? I'm sorry that you couldn’t get a word in edgewise, when he gets on a roll, there’s no stopping him.”

“No, please, don’t apologize, I'm happy that I couldn't get a word in, believe me. Actually, this whole hour went a lot better than I expected.”

May is confused, “Wait, really? But he didn’t….”

“No, he didn’t talk about _that_ , but I wasn’t expecting him to, especially not in the first meeting. But he did talk, he talked a lot, even. That’s a very good sign.”

May is beside herself, “That’s, uh, that’s the best news I’ve heard in a long while, actually.”

The man's smile softens, “I’m glad, Mrs. Parker, and I hope that continues. So, of course, the rest of these sessions will be with just me and Peter. I record all of my sessions with all of my patients, and I even have cameras,” he points up at a couple of cameras that are in the corners, “For safety and legal precautions. You can either drop him off and pick him up in an hour or just sit outside the door for the whole hour, it’s up to you, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

May nods in understanding, “Okay, I, uh, I think, for now anyway, we'll just wait outside the door. It’s not...it’s not that I don’t trust you, I’m just, uh...I’m kinda paranoid, I guess.”

“I don’t blame you, honestly. Also, every once in a while, I would like to catch up with either you or Ben or you and Ben, whichever, on Peter’s progress. I won’t give away everything due to confidentiality, but since he is so young, I don’t want to keep you in the dark.”

“Of course, thank you.”

After confirming that the future sessions will continue to be on Wednesdays at four, the brief meeting ends and the adults say their “goodbyes.”

As Tony ends another day at the office, he can’t help but think that maybe this isn’t completely out of his wheelhouse after all.


	4. Chapter 4

It has been a little over a month since Tony took in Peter as a patient and the kid hasn't said anything about the abuse.

But that doesn't mean that he hasn't been talking. Ever since that first session, the child has turned into quite the “Chatty Cathy.” 

He's talked about everything under the sun: his classmates, teachers, memories of his parents, legos, animals, robots, science, his favorite foods, even the fucking weather.

And Tony is now convinced that he knows more about Star Wars than the man who _created_ Star Wars.

But not a single word about Skip.

The confidence that Tony had at the start of these sessions is starting to drain a bit.

Tony practiced a couple of techniques that he’s used in the past to get kids to open up. The man has had Peter draw, put puzzles together, and play with legos in the hopes that doing activities will make him comfortable enough to talk about more than just light-hearted topics. 

But still nothing. 

Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

Tony is getting frustrated but not directly at Peter by any means. If he was in the kid's position, he probably wouldn't want to talk about it either.

The first time he catches up with May and Ben, he doesn’t let on his frustrations and instead says things like “this is all normal” and “every child is different, it just takes time” so that it will ease their minds and not worry them.

Tony may be a standstill, but he's not giving up on this kid just yet.

-

Tony decides to try another tactic for this next session. Peter doesn't seem to be opening up when he's doing activities.

But what about if _both_ of them are doing an activity?

Well, it’s worth a shot, at least.

Tony opens the door and is greeted by a kid whose smile is adorably contagious, “Hi, Mr. Stark!”

If there's one silver lining that has come out of all of this, it's that Peter has gotten more comfortable around Tony. The man takes solace in that and smiles back at the kid, “Hey, Pete, you ready?”

“Yeah!”

Tony greets and shakes Ben's hand before he walks the kid into the room. Tony closes the door - not all the way, of course - and walks over to his chair. Peter has already made himself at home in his usual spot on the middle cushion of the couch.

Tony talks first before the kid has a chance to talk him to death again, “I got a question for you today, kiddo.”

Peter's head tilts in confusion.

The doctor continues, “Jenga or Battleship?”

Peter's eyebrows narrow in even more confusion, “Huh?”

“You heard me: Jenga...or Battleship?”

Tony opens one of the drawers that's attached to the coffee table and pulls out the two games in question. He shakes the boxes, thinking that the sound of the pieces will entice the kid to pick one.

Peter mulls it over for a few seconds before deciding, “Um...Battleship? I don't like the sound that the Jenga pieces make when the tower falls.”

Funny enough, Tony agrees with him, “Yeah, me either. I don't even know why I got this game, to be honest with you. Anyway, Battleship it is.”

The older man puts Jenga back in the drawer and starts setting up Battleship on the coffee table. Peter moves from his position to sit on the carpeted floor between the table and the couch. He then gets his ships and places them on his side of the board.

Tony sits on the floor across from him and does the same on his side. As he's setting up, he tells the kid his idea, “Hey, kid, so I got an idea.”

Peter moves to sit on his knees so that he can see Tony over top of the game divider, “Okay….”

“How ‘bout we make this game a little bit more interesting?”

Tony sees what looks like a strike of fear flow through the kid, “Wha...w-what? Um, no no, I don't-I don't….”

The kid suddenly gets back up on the couch and curls his knees up to his chest to make himself look as small as possible. Tony registers what he just said and wants to actually kick his own ass.

_Tony, you absolute fucking idiot._

The man quickly does damage control, “Peter, I'm not gonna hurt you. I didn’t mean anything like that, I swear, okay? Hey, can you look at me? Please, kiddo, look at me.”

Peter reluctantly peeks his head over his kneecaps and looks at his doctor. Tony's guilt increases when he sees that the poor kid has tears in his eyes. 

Tony looks directly into his patient’s eyes, “Remember what I said about the coffee table?” He waits until the kid nods his head before continuing, “I promised you that I wouldn't cross over this table unless you wanted me to. I'm not gonna break that promise.”

Peter whispers, “You crossed your heart and hoped to die.”

Tony softly smiles, “Yup, that's right, and I meant every word of it. Do you wanna hear me out? Remember that your uncle is right outside, so you can go back to him at any time, okay?”

Peter wipes his eyes as he nods his head. Tony pulls out another drawer from the table and gets out a box of tissues. He then pushes the tissue box over to the kid's side of the table, “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that.”

The kid's guard is obviously up as he moves to the floor again. He grabs a tissue and wipes his eyes, “It's okay.”

Tony will be forever shocked at how resilient kids are. He tries to be more animated next time he talks, “Okay, the idea that I have is this: every time I sink one of your ships, you tell me something about yourself that you've never told me before. How does that sound?”

Peter raises an eyebrow, “Anything?”

“ _Anything_.”

“Even if I just tell you that I like french fries?”

Tony smirks, “Yup, but now you can't use that one, ‘cuz you already told me.”

Peter finally starts to relax and he sheepishly smiles, “Oh yeah.”

The game finally starts.

After a few rounds, Tony sinks the first of Peter's ships, “Alright, lay it on me, kid.”

“Um….” The kid takes about ten seconds to think of something. When he does, his eyes light up, “I saw someone walking a German shepherd puppy on the way to school today. It was so cute, Mr. Stark!”

Tony has the sudden urge to bang his own head against the table until it starts bleeding. Instead of doing that, he plasters on a fake smile, “That's _great_ , buddy.”

_Yep, this is gonna be another dud._

It's not too long after that when Tony sinks the kid's second ship, “So, whatcha got this time?”

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot! I found out why that one kid always smells like onions.”

Tony's ears perk up in amusement. He'll never say it out loud, but he's so curious as to how a child could constantly smell like a vegetable, “Well don’t keep in suspense, kid, why _does_ he smell like onions so much?”

“‘Cuz he eats onions.”

Tony is confused, “Uh...kid, most everyone eats onions -”

“No, Mr. Stark, he _eats_ onions. Like they're apples. I saw him eating one at lunch the other day, it looked _so_ weird!”

The man is even more confused, “He...he actually eats them -”

“Yup! Raw…and like _apples_.”

Tony can't help himself and he busts out laughing and Peter follows suit. The giggle-fest lasts for a solid few minutes. The man finds himself having to wipe tears from his eyes he was laughing so hard. Peter pushes the tissue box back over to his doctor’s side of the table and the man takes one.

Tony talks again when they finally settle down, “Now _that_ is something you don't hear every day.”

Peter grins, “I've been dying to tell you ever since I saw it.”

The doctor is still grinning, “You, my friend, just made my day.”

The kid grins again and the game continues. 

A few turns later, Peter sinks one of Tony's ships.

Tony quips, “About time, kid, my boats are way too happy over here. Okay, uh, ‘D3’ -”

“Wait! I just sunk one of your ships. Aren't you gonna tell me something about _yourself_?”

Damn...Tony really didn’t think this through, did he? For a genius, he sure feels like a dumbass a lot.

The man decides on a humorous childhood memory, “Well, alright, fair is fair. Okay, so, one day, when I was around your age, I was playing soccer with some friends. You can tell this was a really long time ago, ‘cuz you won't catch me dead playing a sport now.”

Peter snickers and his eyes widen in curiosity.

Tony continues, “Well, I had to pee...I _really_ had to pee,” he can hear the kid's snickers get louder, “But I was having so much fun playing with my friends that I didn’t wanna stop to do something so ‘inconvenient’ like use the bathroom, so I chose to wait until the game was over.”

“Uh-huh….”

“Well...guess who didn’t make it?”

Peter’s jaw drops, “You _peed_ yourself?”

“Yup, in front of my friends and everybody. And since I was at a boarding school, I had to walk all the way back to my dorm in wet pants.”

“ _Oh my gosh_ ,” the kid can’t help but start giggling fully, “That must’ve been _so_ embarrassing.”

Tony sheepishly giggles himself, “Oh, it was, believe me, I still cringe thinking about it. Consider yourself lucky, not many people know that story so if I’m ever reading it in a magazine, I’ll know who spilled the beans, mister.”

Peter takes that last joke seriously and quickly reassures him, “I won’t tell anyone! Your secret’s safe with me, I promise.”

Tony responds with an amused grin and the game continues.

Peter sinks another of Tony’s ships and excitedly looks up at him, “What else ya got?”

Tony pretends to think long and hard about what story he’s going to reveal next. After a few seconds, he responds with, “I like cats.”

The child looks unamused, “Seriously?”

“Kid, I can’t give away my stories all at once, you gotta have _something_ to look forward to each week.”

Peter sighs in exasperation, “ _Fiiiiiine…_ ” Tony can’t help but snicker how dramatic that sounded.

After a few more turns, Tony sinks another of Peter’s ships, “Alright kid, what else _you_ got?”

Peter replies almost instantly, “I almost stopped being friends with Ned.”

That confession caught Tony off guard. It’s definitely one that he didn’t expect since the kid has talked so highly of his friend, “Aw, did you guys have a fight or something?”

Peter suddenly looks solemn, “No…. Um...S-S-Skip said that the...the stuff that he did...the stuff that he did was stuff that _all_ friends do, so um…” the child starts fidgeting with the tips of his glasses, “I thought that Ned wanted to do...that...stuff. A-And I didn’t like that stuff so I thought that...it would be better to not have friends if it meant that I, uh, um...didn’t have to do that...stuff….”

Tony is absolutely floored; so floored that he can’t think straight.

The man does his damnedest to not look as surprised as he’s feeling. He’s gripping the edge of the table to keep himself calm but it’s hard because _holy shit this is actually working_.

After a few seconds, Tony calms down and gives Peter a look of sympathy, “That must’ve been really scary, buddy.”

Peter nods and says in a small voice, “It was.”

Tony keeps his tone soft, “What made you want to keep being friends with him?”

Peter responds with the same small voice, “Saving that for another ship.”

Tony doesn’t say anything more and the game continues.

The man silently thanks God when he sinks another ship not long after the previous one.

Peter doesn’t even wait for Tony to ask what story he’s got, “Ned said that friends don’t do that stuff.”

Tony scoots the game over to get a better look at the kid. He’s not even sure if the kid noticed. He doesn’t say a word and lets Peter take his time.

Peter’s gaze goes to the table and stays there, “I started trying to stay away from Ned at school, so he didn’t know that I didn’t wanna be friends with him anymore. He...he cornered me in the bathroom one day and wanted to know what was going on. I started uh...I freaked out ‘cuz I thought he...I thought he wanted to do...stuff,” Peter starts fidgeting with his glasses again; it must be some kind of nervous tick, “He calmed me down and asked me what was wrong; he wanted to know what ‘stuff’ I was talking about...so I told him.”

That last part alone threw Tony for a loop. The fact that Peter just up and told Ned right after all that speaks volumes about his trust in his friend.

Peter wraps his arms around his middle as if he’s trying to look as invisible as possible, “Then Ned told me that real friends don’t do that stuff and that...that _he_ would never do that stuff. Then he told me that I should tell May and Ben, but I didn’t wanna tell them...S-Skip said that I would get in trouble if I told them and I didn’t wanna get in trouble. I didn't wanna get in trouble, Mr. Stark.” 

A few tears are streaming down the child’s face at this point. Tony gently pushes the tissue box back to the other side of the table and Peter gratefully takes one.

Tony speaks up when it seems that Peter won’t continue on his own, “Is that why Ned told your aunt and uncle and not you?”

Peter wordlessly nods his head, his gaze still fixated on the table.

Tony takes a glance at the timer and silently curses when he sees that they only have a few minutes left. He turns back to the kid and makes sure that his tone stays soft, “Can you look at me for a second, buddy?”

Peter reluctantly looks up at his doctor and the man has a sudden urge to take off the kid’s glasses and wipe the tears that have fallen on them. He gives the child a gentle smile, “You just did a very brave thing, you know that?”

The kid shakes his head, “I’m crying like a baby, I’m not brave….”

“You are, you just don’t know it yet. Telling someone, _anyone_ , is very hard to do. And I’m glad you told me; that first step is the hardest one and you beat it, buddy.”

The child’s gaze goes back to the table, “What...what happens now?”

“Now? Now, the healing begins.”

Peter looks back up at the man and raises an eyebrow, “How are you gonna do that?”

“I can’t give away all my secrets, bud. Just call it…’Tony’s Superpowers.’”

The child snickers, “That’s so lame.”

Tony snickers himself, “Well, maybe we can come up with a better name, how ‘bout that?”

Peter nods his head, “Sounds good.”

The timer dings, signaling the end of the session. Tony has Peter stay for another couple of minutes to collect himself before he walks him to the door. The kid immediately races to his uncle and gives him a hug. Ben picks him up and Peter nestles his face into the crook of the man’s neck.

Ben worriedly turns to Tony, “How did everything go?”

“He was fantastic actually, but it took a lot out of him.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he cups the back of his kid’s head, “Ready to go home, bud?”

Peter wordlessly nods his head against his uncle's neck.

The realization as to why his nephew is so tired hits Ben and he turns back to Tony, “Thank you.”

Tony gives Ben a reassuring smile, “No need, it was all him,” He turns to the kid, “I mean that, Peter, you were great today. I'll see you next time, okay?”

Peter moves his head so that he can look back at his doctor. How the kid manages to give him a small smile, Tony will never know, “Bye, Mr. Stark.”

Tony walks back into his office after they leave and plops down into his desk chair. Peter isn’t the only one who’s tired, but he can’t help but feel elated at the same time. 

Progress was made today, and all it took was a game of Battleship.

So for some reason, the kid opens up when they’re both playing something rather than just him playing by himself. Tony can work with that.

He can absolutely work with that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More bonding time and tough questions are asked.

“Got any eights, Mr. Stark?”

“Go fish.”

Peter is quieter this time, Tony noticed.

The doctor didn’t know what to expect after the shocking confession at the end of last week’s session. Will Peter open up more going forward, or will he try and avoid the topic at all costs like he did in the beginning?

Tony is proud of the kid - impressed with him, actually - but he’s trying not to get his hopes up too high. If Peter doesn’t say anything during this hour, it won't be a waste; it’s normal for someone to take one step forward and two steps back.

But Peter being quiet is so abnormal for him. That must mean that _something_ is up, right?

Right now, they are in the same spots that they were in last week, with both of them sitting on the floor and the coffee table between them. This time, they’re playing “Go Fish.”

Tony is using the same tactic for this game as he did in Battleship: every time one of them gets a four-card match, they say something that they haven’t told each other before. 

Hey, it worked last week, why not try it again?

Another thing that Tony noticed is that Peter has been fidgeting with the tips of his glasses for about since the start of the session. What could that mean?

Peter only messed with his glasses when he was talking about... _that_. Is that the only time he fidgets with them or does he do it when he’s nervous in general?

The child draws a card from the deck and after he puts it with his other cards, his hand goes right back to fidgeting with the tip of his glasses behind one of his ears. He also keeps biting his bottom lip; now, that’s an interesting habit that the man hasn’t seen yet.

Then it dawns on Tony.

_He wants to say something._

And judging from how quiet he’s been, Tony has a feeling that it’s not another story about seeing someone walking their dog.

So now the question remains: how can the doctor get his patient to talk without _telling_ the patient that he can talk in fear that it would scare said patient back into silence?

Tony’s thoughts are interrupted by Peter, “It’s your turn, Mr. Stark.”

_Right, the game...holy shit, Tony, focus._

“Right, sorry, uh…” he takes a second to glance at his cards, “Got any queens?”

“Yup, here you go.”

Peter gives him two queens, which is just what Tony needed, “Alright, got a match.”

Tony lays out all four cards as he tells his story, “Did I ever tell you about the time that I got in a car accident?”

Peter’s eyes bug out and he quickly shakes his head, “No, you didn’t! What happened?”

“It wasn’t a bad wreck, I promise. As you can see, my beautiful face is completely unharmed.”

The kid just rolls his eyes in amusement, “What- _ever_ , Mr. Stark.”

Tony snickers, “Okay, well, I was a teenager in college. I was driving to a party one night and someone pulled out as I was driving by and hit the side of my car,” he hears the kid gasp, “Like I said, it wasn’t a bad wreck; they hit the shotgun side of my car. We were both lucky enough to walk away with just a few cuts from the broken windows.”

Peter relaxes at that, “Good. I’m...I’m glad that you were okay.”

Tony’s heart unexpectedly bursts with warmth at that and he can’t resist giving the kid a smile, “Well, thanks, buddy,” the man bites his lip in contemplation before he continues, “But there’s another bit to the story that not many people know about.”

The kid’s eyes widen in curiosity, “What, what happened?”

“The accident may have been small, but...I was scared to drive for a while after that.”

The child’s eyes widen even more, “Wait, I didn’t know grown-ups got scared.”

“Oh yeah, everyone gets scared, no matter how old you are. And I wasn’t even a grown-up.”

“What made you wanna drive again?”

“Well...y’know how you’ve talked about Ned? About how he’s your ‘stormy-weather’ friend?”

Peter grins, “Yeah, do _you_ have a ‘stormy-weather’ friend, Mr. Stark?”

_More like a “hurricane-weather” friend._

Tony grins along with him, “Yeah, I do. His name is Rhodey, and he helped me to not be so scared of driving anymore. He would ride with me to nearby places like the grocery store or the gas station to get me used to it again. Now, thanks to him, I drive all the time.”

“‘Stormy-weather’ friends are handy to have.”

“Yeah...they are the best, aren’t they?”

Peter nods and the game continues.

It’s only a few rounds later when Peter speaks up in a quiet voice, “Mr. Stark?”

Tony immediately looks up from his cards. He can tell by the way that the kid said his name that he’s not about to tell a funny story.

Peter stares down at his cards. He bites his lip before he continues, “Is it...can I say something...even though I don’t have a match?”

The doctor does everything he can to look casual even though he actually feels downright giddy that the child is taking the initiative, “Yeah, fire away.”

The older man sees the kid let out a breath of relief, “You don’t...you don’t make me talk about it….”

Peter then looks up from his cards to his doctor and gives him a confused expression.

Tony puts down his cards and looks back at his patient with a thoughtful expression, “No...no I don’t.”

“But why? Isn’t that your job? All the other doctors tried to make me talk about it.”

“No, not necessarily; my job is to... _encourage_ people to talk.”

Peter raises an eyebrow, “I thought that was the same thing?”

Tony takes a few seconds to try and figure out how to explain his profession to an eight-year-old, “Again, not necessarily. Encouraging someone to talk means that I want them to _want_ to talk about their issues. If I try to make or force someone to talk, then they might not talk as much as they probably needed to. Does that make sense?”

Peter puts his own cards down and props his arms on the table by the elbows. He then places his head on his fists, “I think so...so does that mean that the other doctors were wrong by trying to force me to talk?”

“Well...no, I wouldn’t go that far, that’s just how they help people. Everyone is different, some people might need that extra push and some people don’t like to be pushed.”

The kid nods his head against his fists, “I...I didn’t like being pushed.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that, that’s just how you are.”

After a few seconds of companionable silence, Peter looks down at the table and shyly asks, “Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Why do you and May and Ben want me to talk about... _it_ so much?”

Tony tries to think of how to respond to that in a way that he would understand, but he decides to ask the kid a question instead, “Let me ask you this, Peter: why _don’t_ you want to talk about it?”

He knows that the answer is obvious, but he wants to know how the kid will answer it.

“Um…” Peter takes his elbows off the table and one of his hands goes behind his ear to fidget with the tip of his glasses again, “Uh...I...I always get scared…. All I wanna do is forget...everything, and talking about it makes me... _not_ forget it. So why don’t you guys want me to forget it?”

Tony gives him a look of sympathy, “You said that talking about it makes you scared, right?” He waits until Peter nods before he continues, “Do you ever get scared when you’re _not_ talking about it?”

Peter's cheeks redden in embarrassment, “Yeah...all the time.”

“See, the reason why we want you to talk is because if you don’t, you could get more scared as you get older. And always living in fear, that’s not healthy for anybody, buddy.”

Peter raises an eyebrow, “But that doesn’t make any sense. I’ll forget about it eventually, right? I mean, I’m not gonna be scared forever, right? Because I won’t remember?”

Tony could almost swear that his heart shattered clean in two. He should’ve known that these types of questions were coming.

The doctor takes a deep breath, “You won’t be scared forever; that’s why your aunt and uncle brought you to me. It’s my job to get you better - to help you move on - and to help you live without having what happened to you hold you back. Does that make sense?” 

“Kinda? But when do I forget about it? When I’m older?”

Tony sighs and takes a few seconds to think before he responds, “Peter...what happened...was a very bad thing...you know that, right?”

Peter's cheeks redden even more as he nods his head.

The doctor continues, “So when someone - anyone, not just you - goes through a bad experience like that...it's very hard to forget...almost impossible to forget, actually.”

Tony tries not to think about how much he relates to what he just said. His focus is on the kid...only on the kid.

The same kid who is now giving him the most miserable look that he had ever seen. Was he too harsh? Is Peter too young to be told the harsh realities of trauma like this? 

Probably.

But he doesn't want to lie to the kid. He doesn't want to sugarcoat this any more than he already has because then it wouldn't be fair to him, he thinks.

Peter's fidgeting has increased and he's hastily wiping tears from his eyes, “I won't... _ever_ forget it? Not even when I'm, like, fifty?”

Tony quickly reassures him, “No, you won't, but let me tell you something, Peter,” he leans forward on the table a little which gets the kid to give him his undivided attention, “You won't forget it, but I promise you that you won't be thinking about it near as much when you're fifty as you are right now.”

After a few seconds of silence, Peter shyly responds, “And all I gotta do is talk about it?”

Tony does decide to sugarcoat this one, “Yeah, for the most part. There’s other things involved, but talking _is_ a huge step to healing.”

Peter puts his elbows back on the table and rests his head on his fists, “Do you promise?”

“Promise what?”

“That I'll...that I'll get better...before I'm fifty?”

Tony cracks a gentle smile, “I promise you, I _doubly_ promise you, that you will get better way before you're fifty.”

Peter bites his lip in nervousness before he asks, “Pinky promise?”

The kid holds out his little pinky at the center of the table and Tony absolutely _melts_ at the sight.

The doctor sticks out his own pinky, “Pinky promise.”

Peter locks their pinkies and his grin grows a mile wide.

_How in the world does this kid still manage to smile?_

When they separate, the child asks, “Can we play more ‘Go Fish’ now?”

Tony can’t help but laugh, “Of course...get ready for me to kick your butt.”

Peter scoffs, “Um, _I’m_ gonna be doing the butt-kicking, thankyouverymuch.”

The older man smirks, “Ooh, those are fighting words. We’ll see about that, squirt.”

As they continue playing and making light-hearted jokes, Tony can’t help but feel warm inside.

Did they just form a bond? Does that “pinky swear” actually have a deeper meaning? This _is_ the first time that they had physical contact, after all.

And Peter initiated it.

So that must mean that trust is definitely there now, right? And that trust comes with more successful sessions in the future...right?

_Okay, Tony, relax; it’s a marathon, not a sprint._

And with that thought in mind, his focus is solely on this card game and this kid. This kid who, to Tony’s pleasant shock, is actually wise beyond his years.

_Imagine what he’ll know when he’s fifty._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's been awhile since I updated, I hope you enjoy this chapter!!

Tony is proud to say that progress is made over the course of the following month.

It's slow, but progress is progress, no matter the speed. 

The kid is opening up more, to the adults’ relief, but he's like an onion, and Tony just has to take it one layer at a time.

Peter hasn’t talked in detail about what he exactly went through, but the last thing that the doctor wants to do is push him. He is confident in telling May and Ben that their kid will fully talk when he’s ready. 

And, if he’s being honest, Tony isn’t completely sure if _he’s_ even ready for that yet, himself.

Tony has bought so many board games, puzzles, legos, and the like that Peter has a tough time choosing which one he wants to play each week. With everything that he’s gone through, the man figured that the kid deserves to have a _fun_ problem, for a change.

Rhodey has even made comments that his friend is turning his office into a playroom. The doctor just laughs in response; seeing the child’s eyes light up every week is more than worth it.

-

Tony gets an unexpected call from May not long after his lunch the following Wednesday, only a few hours before their weekly session.

“Hey, Dr. Stark, I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

The doctor settles into his chair, “No, not at all, how are you?”

“Good, good, um...I'm sorry that it's such short notice, but...we're not gonna make it to the appointment today.”

Tony frowns, “Is everything alright with Peter?”

“Oh yeah, he's fine, it's not him. We're understaffed at the hospital, so I had to pick up another shift and since it was my turn to take him, Ben can't ask for the time off on such short notice. I'm dreading telling Peter, he looks forward to seeing you each week.”

The man can’t help but smile at that. He doesn't even think about what he said until he says it, “I can pick him up.”

_Tony, what the fuck are you doing?_

May, not surprisingly, sounds stunned over the phone, “Tony, I...that's really sweet of you, but I can't ask you to do that, it's too much, and we live like a half hour away -”

“May, don’t worry about it, it's no trouble at all.”

_Stop talking, you absolute idiot._

Tony ignores the voice in his head and continues, “Wednesdays are actually one of my slow days. I have a client in about half an hour and then I'm free until Peter. It's not out of my way, I promise.”

He doesn't hear anything over the phone for a few seconds except for background noises that one would hear in a hospital. May then tentatively asks, “Are you sure? You won't be keeping him for just an hour this time, Dr. Stark, Ben's shift doesn't end until six,” She then backtracks, “Look, thank you for the offer - it really is kind of you - but it's honestly okay. I'm calling the school after I get off the phone with you and I'll have the bus drop him off at daycare.”

For some reason, Tony doesn't let up, “May, really, it’s not a problem, I'll just bring him back to my office. I'll be doing my thing and he can play games or do homework or something.”

_Do you have any idea of what you’re getting into?_

“Are...are you really sure?”

“ _Positive_.”

After a few seconds of silence, May sighs in relief, “Okay...okay, sounds great! Thank you so much, Dr. Stark, you have no idea how much we appreciate it.”

The genius smiles, “It's no trouble at all, like I said. And please, call me ‘Tony.’ I think this warrants a first-name basis now.”

May sheepishly giggles, “Thank you...thank you so much, Dr-uh, Tony.”

Before they hang up, May tells Tony the name of the school and that she'll let the staff know about him picking Peter up. When they do hang up, Tony fully processes what he just did.

_Why why why why why…._

Did he overstep? 

Oh, who is he kidding, he _definitely_ overstepped.

People cancel sessions all the time, it’s not anything new. And it was just once, it’s not like they were canceling forever.

_Welp…can't back out of it now._

But then Tony realizes something.

With every single session that he’s had with Peter, one of his guardians has always waited outside the room. This is the first time that he’s really going to be alone with the boy. 

May is actually trusting Tony to watch over her kid for a few hours.

The doctor can’t help but feel pride rise in his chest. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

_If you say so, Dr. Dumbass._

-

With the help of JARVIS, Tony has no trouble finding Peter’s school.

The man walks in and goes to the front desk. He gives his ID to the receptionist, along with a brief description of the kid’s guardians. The bell rings while he’s there and surprisingly, he sees said kid run up to him just a couple minutes later; he must’ve been told to come straight to the office after school.

Tony’s day is instantly brightened by the toothy smile of his patient, “Hi, Mr. Stark! Look, I lost a tooth yesterday!”

Peter excitedly pulls down his bottom lip to show off the gap in his bottom teeth.

The man looks down at him in amusement, “That’s great, Pete. Did the Tooth Fairy come visit?”

The child lets go of his lip, “Yup! I got five dollars, Mr. Stark. _Five dollars_!”

Tony pretends to be shocked and his jaw drops, “Five dollars?!”

“ _Five dollars_!”

The man’s smile grows, “Well, congrats, buddy.”

The kid replies with a shy, “Thanks.”

Tony sees Peter’s cheeks flush and he wonders if it’s actually humanly possible for this ankle-biter to get any cuter.

The man signs a form agreeing to pick up the student and the duo make their way to his car. As they’re walking, Tony asks, “So, whatcha gonna do with all that ‘dough’?”

“I don’t know...maybe I’ll save up to buy a new lego set...or I can buy chocolate.”

Tony snorts, “The world is your oyster.”

Peter looks up at him in confusion, “Huh?”

“You can use it to buy whatever you want.”

“ _Ohhh_ , cool!”

They get in the car and make their way to the office. Peter slightly cracking his window doesn't go unnoticed by Tony, but the man chooses not to comment. Maybe it’s similar to his thing about closed doors. 

Peter talks about the whole way there, so much so that he barely stops to take a breath between stories. Tony is surprisingly entertained, the kid’s a pretty good storyteller.

They’re almost to the office when a thought occurs to the man and he interrupts Peter, “Hey, kid, you hungry?”

The doctor almost laughs out loud at how shy Peter suddenly gets, “Um...no, no, I’m good, um...only if you want something.”

_Oh, so he’s gonna be one of “those” people._

“You like McDonald’s?”

Tony sees the child’s eyes widen in excitement, but only for a moment, “Yeah...but I’m okay, really.”

The man can’t help but smirk, “Kid, I’m your doctor, you gotta tell me the truth: are you hungry?”

Peter looks down at the floor mat and scratches the back of his neck in shyness, “Yes….”

“Do you like McDonald’s?”

The kid bites his lip, “Yes….”

“Alright, McDonald’s, it is. See, now was _that_ so hard?”

Peter’s cheeks flush in embarrassment, “No, but...I didn’t wanna bother you. I mean...you already picked me up from school, I didn’t want you to think I’m annoying or anything.”

_Ah, gotta love that sweet smell of insecurity._

Tony stops the car when they’re in line at the McDonald’s drive-thru before he turns back to Peter, “Kid, you don’t annoy me, I promise. If you did, I wouldn’t have offered to pick you up or ask if you were hungry.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

Peter’s eyes widen, “Oh…” he then gives his doctor a toothy grin, “Thanks.”

Tony returns the grin, “No sweat. Now, do you normally eat those ‘Happy Meal’ thingies, or what?”

-

They get back to the office and eat their food before starting the session. Instead of playing a game this time, Peter has opted for them to put together a jigsaw puzzle.

They sit in their usual spots on either side of the coffee table. Peter dumps the pieces out of the box and this is Tony’s signal to start the timer.

The session starts out slow - like all of them do - with Peter talking more about what happened at school in the past week. Tony notices that Peter has a tendency to stick out his tongue when he’s concentrating on the puzzle and the man nonchalantly covers his mouth to stifle a heartfelt snicker.

About a quarter of the way through the session, the talking gets more serious when Peter shyly whispers, “Why did he do it?”

Tony knows what the kid is talking about, but he still wants him to explain it, “What do you mean?”

Peter puts down the puzzle piece that he was holding and, as Tony expects by now, his hand starts to fidget with the tip of his glasses. His gaze stays glued to the puzzle, "Why did...why did S-Sk...why did S-S-Skip...do that stuff?"

_Oh boy._

How does Tony explain it? 

How can Tony explain to such a small, innocent child that Skip did what he did because he is a fucking monster who deserves to be thrown into a wood chipper? 

The man could give Peter “doctor-like” answers: something could be messed up in Skip’s head, or the boy could have a history of abuse, himself. 

But the kid in front of him won’t understand those answers. And Tony doesn’t even _want_ to give those answers because it might sound like he’s giving the piece of shit excuses for hurting a child.

The last thing that Tony wants to do is give that monster any excuses.

Tony folds his hands atop the coffee table. After a couple more seconds of thinking, the man finally settles on saying, "I can't answer that, Peter."

The kid's eyebrows narrow in confusion, "Why?"

Tony sighs, "Has anyone ever told you that there are bad people in this world?"

"Yeah, May and Ben say that a lot...especially Uncle Ben 'cuz his job is catching bad guys."

"Good, good." After another sigh, Tony then finally answers, "I don't wanna tell you this, buddy, but I got to. There's no real explanation as to why Skip did what he did. There are just some people in this world who do bad things and we don't know why they do it."

To Tony's shock, Peter sighs in relief. He lets go of his glasses and folds his arms on the table, "So...so I didn't do anything that...that...made him bad?"

The doctor’s eyes widen and he quickly reassures the kid, "No, buddy, you didn't do anything wrong, I promise. None of what happened to you was your fault."

"Aunt May and Uncle Ben say that a lot too."

"Good, that's good, because they're 100% right."

The child looks confused again, "But...but…." He bites his lip and shyly looks down at the puzzle again.

The man can tell that Peter wants to say something else so he decides to gently egg him on, "It's just the two of us in here, bud. You can tell me anything you want to, I don't mind."

Peter's gaze stays locked on the puzzle, and one of his hands creeps up to fidget with his glasses, yet again. His tone is just above a whisper, "He was so nice at first...we would play games and watch movies that Ben and May wouldn't let me watch and he'd let me stay up past my bedtime. He was...cool...and I liked him because I've never been cool and he made me feel... _cool_. And then...and then that...stuff happened. Why did he turn into a bad guy if I didn't do anything to make him bad?"

Tony clenches his jaw; what he wouldn’t give to see this scumbag hung from a flagpole by his balls. 

He takes a few seconds to collect his thoughts before he starts, “I understand why you’re confused, I would be too if I was you. But this is something that a lot of bad people do - not just Skip.” He sees Peter flinch at his attacker’s name and he makes a mental note to try and not say it much, “They act all nice to you and pretend to be your friend...and then one day they turn on you. It happens to a lot of people...it happened to me, even.”

Hm, Tony found another thing that he has in common with the kid. Well...that's unexpected. 

Peter’s eyes widen in surprise. He puts his elbows up on the table and rests his hands on his fists, “Really? You had a...you had a...a ‘S-Skip’?”

“Not a 'Skip', _per se_ , but there was this guy named Obadiah - weird name, I know." He briefly pauses when his patient lets out a light snicker, "He worked at my father’s company for years. After my dad died and I took over the company, I looked to him like a mentor...like a _friend_ , even. Then, one day he turned on me.”

The man sees a look of sadness in Peter’s eyes and he can’t help but melt at the child’s empathy. The kid then speaks in a soft tone, “What happened...if ya wanna talk about it...and stuff….” The tyke looks back down at the puzzle in shyness, head still on his fists.

Tony softly smiles, “Yeah, I don’t mind talking about it; he’s not my friend anymore, so he can jump off a cliff for all I care.” Peter looks back up at his doctor and snorts, “So, Obadiah...well, he wanted the company all to himself. And he almost succeeded...but me and my friends, we found out, and we kicked him out of the company instead. Now, he's in jail, and I plan for him to stay there for a long, long time.”

The boy lets out a half-smile, “That’s awesome! But wait, you own a company _and_ help people?” 

“I kinda, sorta own it, yeah. One of my friends who helped take down the bad guy, Pepper, I made her in charge of the company because I wanted to focus more on helping people. And she’s doing a great job, from what I’ve heard. I’m still a part of the company, but not completely in charge. Does that make sense?”

“I think so...I think you made a good decision.”

The doctor smirks. He copies his patient’s position and rests his cheek on one of his fists, “Oh yeah, why’s that?”

Peter lets out a toothy grin so wide that Tony can see a few gaps of missing teeth, “‘Cuz what sounds more fun: talking to people in fancy clothes about boring stuff, or talking to _me_?”

The man can’t help but laugh as he shakes his head in disbelief. Who knew that this sweet little kid could also contain a healthy amount of _sass_?

After Tony calms down, he asks, “What makes you think that I’m even having fun, you little stinker?”

The child starts giggling himself and he points at the older man, “‘Cuz you’re laughing and smiling, who does that when they’re _not_ having fun?” Peter then proceeds to poke his doctor’s nose, making the man’s smile grow.

Said man then holds up his hands in mock surrender, “Alright, alright, you got me, you’re...a _little bit_ fun.”

Peter smirks, “ _Suuuuuure…_.”

“I mean it, you’re not _that_ much fun, okay, you’re only a little bit fun.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I mean it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Believe it, bud.”

“ _Tooootally_.”

“I’m not gonna win this, am I?”

Peter’s grin could not look any more smug, “Nope.”

The timer dings before Tony can say anything else. Peter’s smile falls a little, like he just remembered why he’s here to begin with.

Tony drops his arm and takes the lull opportunity to say one more thing before the session officially ends. The atmosphere in the room is more solemn, but the lightness is still there, “Bottom line, nothing that we did made Skip and Obadiah bad guys, they were already bad guys before we even met them. They only pretended to be good guys so that they can get what they wanted. Does that make sense?”

Peter wordlessly nods his head.

“Okay, now this is gonna sound cheesy, but bear with me. Repeat after me: nothing that Skip did was your fault.”

The kid’s tone is at just above a whisper, head still resting on one of his fists, “Nothing that S-...S-Skip did was my fault.”

Tony gently smiles, “Good job, buddy. If you’re ever in a bad place or if your mind wants you to think that it is your fault, keep telling yourself that, okay? Or just have your aunt or uncle call me. Capisce?”

Peter lifts his head from his fists and his hands are now resting on the coffee table. Again, his tone is just above a whisper, “Capisce.”

“Good. You did great today, kid. And okay...maybe I did have more than a little bit of fun.”

The child’s cheeks redden as he softly snickers, “Told you.”

Tony mocks, " _Told you_ ," but he grins all the same.

_Score one for Dr. Dumbass._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! Again...sorry it's been awhile since I updated, I've been...distracted. Anyway I hope you enjoy, this is my longest chapter yet at over 4500 words, so maybe that makes up for the wait 😂
> 
> Trigger warning: Anxiety attack

After the session is completely wrapped up and the puzzle pieces are back in the box, Tony sits at his desk to check emails. Peter grabs his books from his backpack and starts doing his homework on the coffee table.

It could just be the homework, but the kid doesn’t ramble as much as Tony thought he would. However, the quiet atmosphere isn’t uncomfortable either, surprisingly. 

It had been about fifteen or so minutes since the duo went their separate ways before Peter asks, “Mr. Stark?”

Tony responds, not looking away from his computer, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Um…so, you’re like...a genius and stuff, right?”

_Certainly don’t feel like it sometimes._

The doctor stifles a snicker, thankful that the question isn’t more serious. He turns to the kid, “I know...some things. What is it, you need help with homework or something?”

Peter shyly scratches the back of his neck, “Um, yeah...is that okay?”

“Sure thing, bring it up here.”

The child closes his books and brings them to his doctor. He sits in one of the chairs across from the older man and scoots the chair until he can rest his hands atop the desk. He then opens his book to what he’s working on. To the genius’s utter shock, the kid is opening an algebra book.

Tony’s eyes widen. His eight-year-old patient is learning _algebra_? In only the third grade?

The man blurts out, “You’re learning algebra?”

Peter bites his lip, surprisingly modest, “Uh...yeah, um...I’ve already done everything in my math workbook, so my teacher gave me a workbook from a ‘big-kid’ class to do. I really like it, and I’m almost done, but I’m stuck on this one thing.”

Tony snaps out of the shock and turns his focus to the homework. He sees the mistake instantly, “Okay, see this bit here?” He waits until the kid is paying attention before he continues, “This is supposed to be a minus, not a plus. I betcha that’s why your ‘x’ looks weird.”

Peter looks back at the problem and Tony grins when he sees the hypothetical light bulb go off above the boy’s head, “ _Ohhh_ , okay, hang on.” The man waits patiently for the tyke to solve the equation and when he does, Peter lets out a toothy grin, “I got it, thanks!” 

“No problem, kid.” The man’s curiosity gets the best of him and he takes a few seconds to flip through the workbook. The tyke is currently working on the quadratic formula; kids don’t typically learn that until they are at least in middle school.

The man flips backward to see what Peter has worked on: slope, probability, functions, number theory, damn...he knew the munchkin is smart, but _this_ is unexpected, “You know all of this?”

Peter looks up at Tony and timidly smiles, “Um...yeah, uh...yeah….”

The doctor smiles at him in amazement and looks back at the book, “Impressive, kid. I didn't know I was in the same room as a young Albert Einstein.”

Tony looks up from the workbook and is surprised to see what looks like fear flow through the kid.

Said kid’s breathing starts hitching up and he talks so softly that Tony has to strain his ears to hear him, “Wha-wha-what didya say?”

The genius’s short-term memory has kicked in and he doesn’t remember exactly what he said, “Uh, I was just, uh...I just didn’t expect you to be so smart; I was impressed, kiddo, honest.”

The kid’s hands start trembling and the shakiness in his voice increases, “You-you-you-you d-d-didn’t say that….”

Tony feels awful for whatever he said and he tries to do damage control, “What did I say? I won’t say it again, just tell me what I said.”

But Peter doesn’t tell him. His face scrunches up in a way that makes him look like he's about to cry.

Before Tony can say anything else, the kid flies out of his chair and curls up in a corner of the couch. The tyke's arms hug his legs and his forehead is against his knees. 

The man's heart is filled with so much guilt. What the hell did he do to cause this?

Tony gets out of his seat and walks around his desk. Judging by the sound of the child's wheezes, it sounds like he's having a hard time breathing. This isn't like the time when they played Battleship; the poor guy seems to be on the verge of an actual anxiety attack. 

Peter continues whimpering and wheezing. He curls more into the corner of the sofa, hands still trembling uncontrollably. 

Tony hurries to the couch, but he stops himself at the table. 

The coffee table.

_Fuck...the "coffee table promise."_

Tony sits in the same spot he always does when they play games, hands spread wide on the tabletop so the kid can see them. He makes sure his voice sounds as unthreatening as possible, “It’s just us, Peter, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m not breaking our ‘coffee table promise’, okay, I would never do that. Can you hear me?”

Peter’s wheezes haven’t faltered but the man sees him slightly nod his head.

“Okay...okay, that’s good, that’s good.” The older man then starts taking loud, deep breaths so that the kid can hear them, “Breathe with me, okay?”

The doctor then takes in a deep breath and gradually counts the seconds, "One, two, three, four…."

He exaggeratedly lets out that breath and does the same thing, "One, two, three, four…."

Tony keeps doing that for the next couple of minutes. He gives the kid “brownie points” for trying to follow his breathing, but it doesn’t seem to be working. The tyke’s head is practically submerged between his knees and chest, and his breaths are still sounding ragged.

This would be so much easier if Tony could get closer to him...if the man could physically comfort him.

But he has never initiated physical contact and he's not about to start now.

The genius tries another tactic, one that doesn’t require him to constantly give the tyke reassurances, “Peter, can you still hear me?”

The child nods his head. The amount of whimpering, sobbing, and wheezing that said child is _still_ doing is actually starting to scare the man a little.

Tony continues while trying his best to stay calm, “Good, good...can you look at me, Pete? Please?”

It takes about ten seconds before Peter peeks his head over the tops of his knees. His eyes are red-rimmed due to crying and his glasses are slightly crooked.

Tony locks eyes with the kid and gently smiles at him, “I want you to pick something in this room to look at, anything you want.”

Peter’s eyes narrow in confusion and he shakes his head. Tony softly repeats the request, “It’s okay, all I want you to do is stare at an object in this room, any object you want. Can you do that for me?”

After a few seconds, the child nods. His head doesn’t move but his eyes glance all over the office. Tony’s heart aches at seeing so much fear in the kid's eyes.

The doctor then sees those eyes focus on something and gently asks, “Did you pick out something?”

The child wordlessly nods his head again, still having a hard time breathing. 

Tony nods his head in confirmation. He makes sure to talk as slowly as he can, “Okay, good, that’s great. Can you tell me what you picked out?”

Peter shakily responds after a few seconds of delay, “The...the...p-p-puzzle...b-box.”

The man glances at the object in question; it’s the box that contains the puzzle that they put together during the session. He smiles again, “Great job, Peter. Can you tell me what the puzzle box looks like?”

The kid talks slowly, like he doesn’t know if he’s doing this right, “There’s a...there’s a...there’s a p-puppy on it….”

Tony’s smile grows, “Good, you’re doing great, buddy. Can you tell me what the puppy looks like?”

“Um...it’s yellow, and it...it has a small t-t-tail...and floppy ears….”

The billionaire’s smile grows even more and he nods his head. He hears the wheezing slowly but surely start to even out, and he silently thanks God that his plan is working, “Good, good, keep staring at it, Pete. Can you tell me anything else?”

The shakiness in the munchkin’s voice and arms are faltering, “It’s sitting on grass...and it’s staring at a b-butterfly,” he then smiles for the first time in what feels like a year to Tony, “It’s really cute...I wanna take him home with me.”

The man light-heartedly giggles, “The puppy _is_ cute, isn’t it?”

The child half-smiles, still trying to get control over his breathing but having an easier time of it than before, “Yeah...what kinda puppy is it?”

The doctor takes another glance at the box, “Looks like a Yellow Lab; those are good dogs.”

“Yeah….”

Tony sees that the child’s arms are now still and he takes that as a good sign, “How are you feeling?”

“Okay...but my heart’s beating really fast...why does it always do that when this happens?”

The fact that this isn't the kid's first anxiety attack breaks the man's heart, “That happens when people get scared like you just did. It’ll calm down in a few minutes, can you take some deep breaths for me? And keep staring at that puppy.”

Peter does, and Tony takes some deep breaths along with him.

After what feels like a damn eternity, Peter lifts his head from his knees and says, “It’s beating normally now.”

The older man sighs in relief.

_Good Lord, now I need a nap._

The child locks eyes with his therapist. He rests his chin on top of his knees, voice so quiet that Tony can barely hear him, “Why did you say that?”

“Peter, I’m sorry but...what did I say? Can you please tell me what I said? I promise I won’t say it ever again, just...please tell me.”

The tyke looks away from his doctor’s gaze. His cheeks redden in what is probably embarrassment and his tone reflects that, “Why...why didya call me 'Ein-Einstein’?”

Tony’s memory kicks in at hearing the name and says, “Eins-That guy is one of, if not, _the_ smartest scientist of all time. When I saw the math that you did - I mean, not many eight-year-olds know the quadratic formula, buddy. I called you that because you're so smart that you reminded me of him. I meant that as a good thing, I promise.”

A tear falls down the client’s cheek, to the man’s confusion. He prays that the kid isn’t about to have another attack - he honestly doesn’t know if he could sit through another one back-to-back. 

The man can tell that his patient wants to say something, so he doesn’t say a word in fear that it would break the concentration.

_C’mon, kiddo, talk to me…._

Peter is still looking away from his doctor and his voice gets quieter, if that’s even possible, “S-S-S...S-Skip...liked to call me that...I thought he meant that as a good thing too….”

Tony feels a chill crawl up his spine and a hypothetical lightbulb goes off over his own head. Of course that sick excuse for a human being had something to do with this.

Surprisingly, the child keeps going, hand fidgeting with one arm of his glasses, “He was nice about it in the beginning...when I would tell him about science and math stuff...but then….” He sniffles and wipes a tear under his glasses with his free hand, “But then...he would call me that while he...while he...did stuff. I just...I just don’t like that name anymore.”

_I really hope I run into this asshole someday._

Tony takes a deep breath to keep his anger in check, “Pete, can you look at me?”

Peter looks back at his therapist, embarrassment still shown on his face.

The doctor smiles at the kid again, “I promise I won’t call you that ever again. Thank you for telling me, you were _fantastic_ , my friend.”

The tyke drops his hand and rests both of them on his kneecaps. He then rolls his eyes, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better -”

The older man slowly shakes his head, “No, no I’m not, I mean every word, Peter. You got yourself out of an anxiety attack _and_ you told me why you had one, that took guts if I do say so myself. I’m proud of ya, kiddo.”

Peter tentatively smiles back, “You’re really proud of me?”

Tony crosses his arms atop the table, “Oh yeah, are you kidding? Kid, you are so much braver than you think you are.”

The child lets out a loud yawn, “ _Okaaaaaay…._ ”

The genius snorts at the incoherent response. Once the adrenaline from the attack wears off, it's normal for people to have fatigue, so he was somewhat expecting this, “You want to take a nap before your uncle gets here?”

Peter yawns again and shakes his head, “No, I wanna finish my homework first, I only have a few problems left.”

“Alright, how ‘bout we do this: your uncle won’t be here for another hour and a half or so, so you get some shut-eye, and then you can finish your homework. Deal?”

The child is tiredly rubbing his eyes under his glasses as he responds, “Deal.”

Tony then stands up and stretches, “Alrighty then, I’ll be at my desk if you need me. You can take off your shoes, by the way.”

Peter nods his head and takes off his shoes, along with his glasses. He lays on his side with his head on one of the throw pillows and is out in seconds.

Tony gently smiles at the sight. As much as he loves the amount of progress that has been made…they still have a ways to go.

-

Tony hears Peter stirring after about thirty minutes. He gives the child a few moments to fully wake up before he asks, "How're you feeling, kiddo?"

Peter sits up and puts his glasses on, "Good."

Tony sees the tyke sit on the floor between the sofa and the table. He then gets his books back out to finish his homework. 

_Well, he's got about the best damn work ethic I've ever seen._

"Let me know if you need any more help with the homework, alright?"

"Okay."

The next twenty minutes are spent in comfortable silence again. Tony finished checking his emails and is now doing paperwork, both for his current clients and potential new ones. 

The man looks up at one point to check on the kid. Peter must be done with math because he is now reading a book while leaning against the couch. Tony covers his mouth to stifle a laugh; why didn't the boy just get back on the sofa to read his book?

Tony then gets a call from Ben, letting the doctor know that he'll pick up his nephew in about half an hour. After hanging up he tells the kid, "Your uncle will be here soon, bud."

"Okay."

A couple of minutes later, Tony hears his patient ask, "Mr. Stark?"

The doctor turns to the kid, "What's up?"

Said kid looks up from his book, "How'd you do it?"

"How did I do what?"

"How didya...stop my 'freak out'?"

Tony's eyebrows raise in surprise. He wasn't expecting that question. 

Rather than telling him from across the room, the man decides to go sit in his usual spot at the coffee table, across from the kid, "Something I picked up from a couple of my own therapy sessions."

Peter's eyes widen in shock, "Wait...you've been _me_ before?"

Tony crosses his arms atop the table, "Yup...a few years ago, I was in your shoes." He tightens his grip on his arms; that sentence alone brings up some not-so-fun memories.

Peter puts down his book and copies his therapist's position by crossing his arms on top of the table. He then asks, "Was it because of your S-Skip?"

_Oy…._

Tony doesn't want to lie to the kid, but he _really_ doesn't want to explain why he was in therapy...neither of them are ready for that, he thinks.

After a few seconds, the doctor decides to respond with, "No, it wasn't _completely_ because of Obadiah, it was before I found out everything he did. Um...a lot happened."

Peter seems to sense the nervousness because he quickly says, "I'm sorry, you don't have to talk about it, I'm sorry, please don't be sad."

Tony smiles gratefully, "It's okay, kid, don’t be sorry...maybe I'll tell you one day, but today is not that day."

The child rests his chin on his crossed arms, "I understand...there's still stuff I haven't told _you_ yet."

The genius looks at his client with sympathy. What's heartbreaking is that this kid actually _does_ understand and isn't just saying that to make his therapist feel better.

Tony gently smiles, "We'll get there, kid, I promise."

Peter nods his head in response. He then lifts his head and asks that question from earlier, "So...how’d you stop my ‘freak out’? May and Ben never did what you did.”

Tony takes a few seconds to get his thoughts together. When he does, he starts, “Well…when people have a…‘freak out’ like that, it’s hard to focus on anything other than the attack itself. Y’know what I mean?”

The child shakes his head “no”, confusion evident on his face.

The doctor rephrases, “During your ‘freak out’...did you have a hard time hearing me?”

Peter speaks softly, “Kinda, yeah. I mean, I _did_ hear you, but you sounded far away. I was also scared ‘cuz I couldn’t breathe….”

“Exactly, it’s hard to pay attention to anything else when you’re scared like that. Do you get what I mean?”

The boy nods his head in what looks like understanding.

The genius continues, “So, when I told you to stare at something - like the puzzle box that I still haven’t put away for some reason -” he briefly pauses when he hears his client snicker, “I wanted you to focus more on the object because putting your thoughts on something else takes your mind off of the ‘freak out.’ When your mind is on that picture or book or whatever, the rest of your body can work to stop the ‘freak out’ faster. Does that make sense?”

“I...I think so? Like...staring at something makes me calm down faster?”

“Yep, so if you’re ever somewhere and you feel like you’re about to have a ‘freak out’, pick a random object and study it: what it's doing, what it looks like, things like that.”

“Like what I did with the puzzle box….”

“Exactly, kiddo.”

There are a few seconds of awkward silence before Peter quietly says, “Thank you...for helping and stuff….”

The doctor gently smiles, “You’re welcome, Peter.”

The duo then hears a soft knock at the cracked door. The door opens all the way and they see Ben in the doorway. The boy's eyes light up, "Uncle Ben!"

Peter rushes to his uncle and gives him a hug. Ben is grinning as he picks up his kid, "Heya, sport, didya have fun?"

Tony gets up as his client answers, "Uh-huh, I got a racecar with my 'Happy Meal' and we put a puzzle together."

Ben's jaw drops in "shock", "A _racecar_? Well, now you gotta show it to me."

"It's in my backpack, I'll go get it."

The policeman puts his nephew down and watches him rush to the backpack. He then turns to the doctor, "Thank you so much for watching him, you have no idea how much May and I appreciate it."

Tony shakes the man's hand, "It's no trouble, honestly. You got a good kid, there."

Ben looks at his kid, who's still searching for that racecar, and smiles, "Trust me, I know. So, how much do I owe ya?"

The billionaire shrugs, "Just the usual session."

Ben's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, "But you kept him for longer than an hour -"

"I don't need the additional money, okay, it's on the house, and you're not changing my mind."

The other man laughs in disbelief, "You're cheaper than daycare. Careful, Doc, or else we might use you again."

Tony smiles, "Well, you did catch me on a slow day, so I'm glad it all worked out."

"Me too."

Peter then rushes back to his uncle, toy car in hand. Ben kneels down to his nephew's eye level and pretends to be excited about the toy, "That is _so_ cool, kiddo."

"Isn't it? It's red, May's favorite color!"

"I see that, you should show this to her when she gets home. You ready to go, let's put your shoes on."

"Okay."

Tony chimes in, "Actually, Peter, can you put your shoes on outside? I need to talk to your uncle for a minute."

Peter faces his doctor from the couch, suddenly solemn, "You're gonna tell him about my 'freak out', aren’t you?"

The genius nods his head.

Ben seems to sense the apprehension. He walks to his nephew and kneels down again, tone gentle, "He has to, bud. In order for him to help, I have to know what's going on. Can you wait outside for me?"

Peter shyly nods his head. He and Tony say their “goodbyes” and the kid grabs his things before heading out the door. 

Ben cracks the door and turns to face Tony, "What happened?"

The doctor walks around his desk and sits in his chair, "Peter had an anxiety attack while he was here...he doesn't like to be called 'Einstein.'"

The other man curses under his breath, "I'm so sorry, I should've told you, that didn't even cross my mind -"

"It's okay, honestly, he's fine now, I'll just remember to not call him that."

"Good, good, um, for future reference: he doesn't like to be called 'Petey' either."

Tony winces, "Noted."

Ben walks to the window that's across the room and stares at the view, looking like his mind is a million miles away from the office. Tony asks, "Penny for your thoughts, Ben?"

The officer tries to brush it off, "Nah...no, I'm good, it's fine."

The doctor rolls his eyes at the obvious lie.

_Aren't cops supposed to be trained to lie to criminals or something, 'cuz that was just sad._

Tony says, "I mean, I'm not gonna _make_ you talk, but if you did want to get something off your chest, you're in the perfect place to do so."

Ben grunts in frustration. After a few seconds, he finally says, "I'm thinking about quitting the force."

The doctor raises his eyebrows in surprise, "May I ask why?"

The cop lets out a humorless laugh and glances at the billionaire, "Wouldn't you?"

Tony deeply sighs, now understanding the reason, "You know that none of what happened to Peter was your fault, or May's."

Ben grunts again, “I brought that scumbag into my kid’s life -”

“No, you hired a teenager to babysit your nephew a few days a week. None of you knew that anything like this would happen, and why would that even cross your mind when that guy's just a kid, himself.”

“But I’m a _cop_ , Stark. I’ve seen criminals come in all shapes, sizes, and ages, from punk-ass kids to church-going old ladies...I should’ve done more.”

“You can’t blame yourself, that doesn’t help you or Peter...and quitting the force isn’t gonna help him either.”

Ben turns from the window and leans against it, frustration evident on his face, “You don’t understand, Doc, you don’t. My job is to catch people like Skip, I _have_ caught people like Skip, yet that piece of shit is still out there. If I can’t protect my kid, then what good of a cop am I?”

“A pretty damn good one from what your kid has told me.”

“What?”

Tony half-smiles, “Yeah, he’s talked about how _cool_ you are and how _cool_ it is that you catch bad guys...he looks up to you, officer.”

The cop rolls his eyes, “He doesn’t understand it, either.”

The genius shrugs, “No, but he does understand it enough to not blame you for what happened to him. He’s never said anything about it being your’s or May’s fault.”

Ben sighs, “That kid’s too sweet for his own good.”

Tony’s smile grows, “And smart too. I didn’t know I’ve been playing games with a child prodigy.”

The policeman can’t help but laugh, “We have no idea where he got that from, my brother and I were complete dumbasses. Maybe it’s from his mother.”

The billionaire snorts at that. He then says, “I don’t know if you want any advice, but you’re getting some anyway: don’t make any drastic decisions just yet. I know I don’t know you very well, but I want you to make sure that this is something that you actually want to do, and you’re not just doing it because of guilt.”

Ben lets out a deep breath, “Alright fine, I'll let it stew a bit more...you’re not half bad at this, Doc, you know that?”

Tony says with light-hearted sarcasm, “I mean, I _am_ pretty amazing.”

Both men laugh at that comment. The parent then says, “He likes you, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“ _Oh_ yeah, he talks about you all the time: ‘I can’t wait to tell Mr. Stark about this’ or ‘I gotta tell Mr. Stark about this thing that happened at school.’ It’s like he's got a new imaginary friend or something.”

Tony feels warmth fill his chest, “I like him too, he’s a sweet kid.”

“Yeah, yeah he is,” Ben’s tone turns serious, “I want you to know something: he trusts you, and you seem like a nice guy...but if you do _anything_ to break that child’s trust, I will not hesitate to kick your ass.”

Tony’s tone is equally serious, “The last thing on this earth that I want to do is ruin the little amount of innocence that he has left. If I do, I _expect _my ass to be kicked.”__

__The officer half-smiles and nods his head, seemingly satisfied at the doctor’s response, “Good...thanks for letting me vent, Doc.”_ _

__The genius smirks, “Anytime.”_ _

__The two men say their “goodbyes” and Ben leaves with his nephew. Tony sits back at his desk and thinks about the conversation he just had._ _

__Peter has been through enough hurt to last a lifetime. Tony would rather die than cause that child any more pain._ _

__The doctor’s eyes widen at that thought. Is he being serious right now?_ _

__Tony has only known this kid for a couple of months. They still don’t even know each other that well, yet he’s already pretty much declaring that he would put himself in harm’s way for that munchkin._ _

__But the man smiles, all the same, because that wordless declaration doesn’t feel weird._ _

In actuality, it feels _right_. 

He _would_ put himself in harm’s way for that kid. 

__There is no question about it._ _


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoy!!! 💖
> 
> I wanna give a warning before you read the chapter...stuff gets talked about, but I promise it's not graphic

Another month passes and unfortunately, not as much progress was made as with the previous one.

It is a rainy April afternoon, with the doctor and his patient in their usual spots on either side of the coffee table. Said patient’s game of choice today is Scrabble.

The session starts out like routinely enough: Peter gives his rundown of everything that has happened since their previous meeting. Tony smiles and laughs at all the appropriate times, not rushing him to talk about anything that's more serious.

However, Tony is planning to research more ways to get this little guy to talk.

The man noticed a pattern that has formed over the last several weeks: Peter always talks about something fun at the start of the sessions - like he's doing now - then slowly, he would work up the courage to ask a more serious question or say something about Skip. But lately, the boy has spent more time talking about the fun things and less time about why he’s even seeing a therapist once a week, sometimes even mentioning something that he has already said before. 

And today is no exception; this kid is continuing to beat around the bush despite it being close to halfway through the hour.

Not that Tony is upset with the kid. The progress is miles better than it was at the start, and when he told the child that he’s proud of him, he meant it; the man didn’t just say that to make him feel better.

Though the progress is better than it was, it has gone a bit stagnant, it has... _plateaued_ , one could say. It's similar to when someone is trying to lose weight: at the start, they could lose ten to twenty pounds over the span of a couple of months, but in the following months afterward, they could barely lose a few pounds or less.

There is no special trick or technique to fight through that "wall"...the only way through is to keep going, keep going until one sees a light at the end of the hypothetical tunnel. And in Peter’s case, he needs to continue opening up.

But said kid is _still_ telling the story about Ben taking him to the movies last weekend. As he’s talking, Tony sees the child fidgeting with his glasses and incessantly biting his lip, both of which have become dead giveaways for meaning that the poor guy actually does want to say something, but he’s too uncomfortable or scared to do so.

So Tony decides to make a risky move. 

When Peter finishes his story and there is a brief lull of silence, the billionaire says, “Peter...y’know I’ve never pushed you, right?”

The tyke nods his head “yes”, still fidgeting with one of the arms of his glasses.

The older man nods his head in return, “Good, good...but you seem really tense right now, bud. I just wanna say that it's just us, no one can hear us, and I’m not gonna judge you, no matter what you say.”

Instead of biting his lip this time, Peter folds his upper lip over his bottom one, as if demonstrating how one keeps their lips tightly sealed. Tony hopes the kid didn’t pick up that habit from Skip.

The man inaudibly gasps with an idea, “You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.”

Peter lifts an eyebrow in confusion.

The doctor continues, trying not to sound too hopeful, “Yeah, you don’t have to say anything if you don't want to, that is completely fine. But if you wanna... _show_ me what you want to say,” he gestures to the partly-filled Scrabble board, “I’ll catch on.”

Peter’s eyes widen at the realization. He then bites his lip again and stares at the game board in reluctance, “I...I don’t know...I don’t, I don’t, uh….”

Tony quickly reassures him, “That’s okay, that’s completely okay, I’m not gonna make you do it, it was just a suggestion.”

There are several seconds of silence with the tension so high that one could cut a knife through it. Tony could almost swear that he sees gears physically turning in the munchkin’s head.

Peter nervously swallows, “I want to, but I...I don’t know how to say it.”

“You can use the board to get your thoughts together before you show me, if you want."

The tyke spends another few seconds thinking about that idea before he reluctantly nods his head.

Tony slides the pieces off the game board and pushes it closer to his client. Peter pushes his own pieces out of the way and folds both of his arms on top of the table. The kid bites his lip in nervousness, yet again.

_How has his lip not bled at this point?_

The child looks up at his therapist, fear evident on his face, "Can you, uh...not look...please?"

"Yeah, of course, buddy."

Tony takes his phone out of his pocket and starts messing with it, trying to will his hands to not tremble. 

He'll never say it out loud, but Tony is scared right now. What is the kid going to say? Is it something he hasn't said before or is the guy about to expand on something that he _has_ said before? The doctor has absolutely no idea of what to expect. 

Neither of them says anything for the next couple of minutes; the only sounds are the game pieces against the board and pouring rain hitting the windows.

Peter then clears his throat, letting the doctor know he's done. Tony puts his phone off to the side and gives his patient an encouraging smile.

The child slowly turns the game board around and the man reads what he wrote. 

_I didn't like it_

Despite the message being vague, Tony knows what the boy is talking about. But in order to break through that “wall”, the man has to delve a little deeper.

Tony swallows a nervous lump in his throat. He makes sure to talk as slowly as he can, "What didn't you like, Peter?"

Peter slides the game pieces off the board and starts again.

The older man grabs his phone and starts scrolling, but he can’t focus on the screen in front of him. Without moving his head, he glances at the child and sees that his hands are also slightly trembling.

_At least we're both on the same page._

A few seconds later, Peter clears his throat again and turns the board around, hands still shaky. The doctor reads the second message.

_Touching_

Tony's jaw drops to the floor and he grabs tightly onto his phone to keep from having a complete fit.

Peter admitted it. 

He didn't actually say it but he still _said_ it.

The kid has never said the word before; he always referred to what Skip did as “stuff”, but he never expanded on what the “stuff” was.

Until now.

The doctor expected this day to come, but he didn't really _expect_ it at the same time, especially not so soon after this "game" started.

And no matter how professional he sounds, he is anything but prepared.

Tony closes his mouth and takes a deep breath, still holding onto his phone in a death grip, "You didn't like the touching?"

Peter doesn't answer. Instead, he pushes the Scrabble pieces off of the board except for two of them and switches their positions to create his word.

_No_

Before Tony can react, the kid pushes those pieces away and starts again. The billionaire is mindlessly scrolling on his phone, hands trembling more than they were a few minutes ago.

Again, Peter clears his throat to let the doctor know he's done. Said man reads the next message. 

_It felt weird_

Peter expands on what he put down, tone barely a whisper, "Not a...not a good weird."

Tony swallows back some bile that he felt crawling up his throat. What makes this so awful is...this isn’t the worst of the abuse.

The older man decides to make another risky move; since Peter is using game pieces to talk, Tony thinks the child might be willing to say more.

The genius then asks, “It felt weird because...he touched you?”

Peter doesn’t move the pieces this time and just adds the additional letters under the prior message.

_Yes_

The tyke then moves all of the pieces and starts over. Tony again uses his phone to distract himself until his patient is done.

Tony can’t believe that this is actually working...maybe he ought to start doing this more often. Will the kid reveal more if he just _wrote_ everything that happened?

The billionaire’s train of thought is broken when Peter clears his throat again. Tony reads the next message.

_And I touched him_

Tony looks up at his patient and sees watery eyes, no doubt filled with unshed tears, “Oh, buddy.”

Peter doesn’t reply because he is already working on the next message and in what feels like mere seconds, he turns the board back around. A blank square is used in place of one of the "k’s."

_I didn’t like it_

_Skip didn’t care_

Tony takes a few moments to collect himself. When he does, he asks, “He didn’t listen to you?”

Peter hastily shakes his head “no.” He pushes the pieces off the board and starts back over, much quicker this time. The genius doesn’t grab his phone again and instead pretends to admire the rain falling outside.

In not even half a minute, the child taps his doctor’s arm to get his attention. Said doctor tries to not feel pride that his patient trusted him enough to touch him despite the topic of conversation, but the warmth fills his chest anyway. The man then reads the message.

_I told him to stop_

_But he didn’t_

After Tony reads the message, he looks at his patient, who’s fidgeting with his glasses yet again.

Peter speaks up, tone the same as before, “Why didn’t he stop? May and Ben and my parents always said that if you’re doing something and someone tells you to stop, you stop.” A few tears fall down his cheeks and he wipes them away with his free hand, voice cracking, “Why didn’t he stop?”

_Shit...shit shit shit…._

Tony can’t help but give his client look of pity. Despite the kid having the brains that could make him a mini genius, he still has the mind of a scared eight-year-old boy who is much too young to have a clear picture as to what exactly happened to him.

The doctor's hands have stopped shaking and he crosses his arms atop the table. He makes sure his tone is gentle, “Remember when we talked about Skip being a bad guy?”

Peter sniffles and nods his head. He then copies Tony's position by folding his own arms on top of the table, “You said...you said that we don’t know why he’s a-he’s a bad guy...‘cuz we don’t know why bad guys do bad things.”

“That's right, we don't. And part of being a bad guy is doing bad things...like hurting the good guys. Skip didn’t stop because he didn’t... _want_ to stop. He is a bad guy and he wanted to hurt a good guy...that’s why he didn’t stop. Does that make sense?”

_Good God, I could get diabetes from how much I sugarcoated that one._

Peter nods his head and wipes his eyes, looking somber, “Yeah...TV lied to me….”

Tony’s eyebrows narrow in confusion, “How so?”

The child shrugs, “In movies and on TV, the good guys always win...but I didn’t...he won.”

The genius deeply sighs, “Yeah...yeah, TV does lie to us on that front, and that’s a harsh reality that we just have to accept: stories sometimes don’t have a happy ending.”

The boy wipes some more tears that have fallen down his cheeks, “Like mine.”

Tony grabs a box of tissues from one of the drawers and pushes it to the kid's side of the table. He then playfully smirks, “ _Welllll_ , I wouldn’t go that far.”

Peter tilts his head in confusion and grabs a tissue, “What do you mean?”

“Your story hasn’t ended yet, bud, you’re only like what, five, six years old?”

Peter smirks as he's grabbing another tissue, “I’m eight and almost _three-quarters_ , Mr. Stark.”

Tony fondly rolls his eyes, “Right, right, right, _silly_ me.” He pauses until the boy has finished snickering, “My point is, your story’s not over yet, kid. This...thing that happened is just a bump in the ‘Road of Peter.’ Your ending is gonna be so happy that people will be talking about how cheesy it was.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, " _Whatever…._ "

Tony snorts, "I know it doesn't seem like that now, but I'm your doctor; therefore, you _have_ to believe me."

The child props his elbows on top of the game board and rests his head on his now still palms, "I guess…."

“Well, you don’t have to believe me _today_...but one day you will.”

“I hope so...it _does_ sound nice.”

Tony smiles, “It will be. I’m proud of you for telling me all of that, Pete. You’ve never said those words before.”

Peter half-smiles before biting his lip, “I, uh...I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while but, uh...I didn’t know how to say it. I was scared...I don’t like thinking about it.”

_So that explains why his progress has been at a standstill._

“I don’t blame you, that was a very brave thing you did. Did you like using the Scrabble pieces to talk?”

The child quickly nods his head.

The doctor continues, "May I ask why?"

Peter's cheeks flush and he folds his arms back on the coffee table. His gaze goes to the game board, "Um...uh, not saying it makes it less...scary, less…embarrassing…."

Tony’s eyes soften, "You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Peter. Nothing that he did was your fault."

The child lays his head on his crossed arms and faces away from the older man, tone back to a whisper, "I know but...he made me…he made me...take my clothes off…and no one's ever seen me naked except May, Ben, and my parents. Him...looking at me and...and stuff...it was just embarrassing, okay?”

The man’s eyebrows raise to his hairline in shock; he wasn’t expecting another confession so quickly...and without using the board game this time.

_Huh…._

The genius gently says, “I get ya, I’d be embarrassed too. Can you look at me for a sec?”

The tyke turns his head until he’s facing his doctor, chin resting on his arms and his glasses lopsided. His cheeks are flushed even more than they were a few minutes ago.

The billionaire gives him a small smile, “Thank you for telling me, kiddo, and please don’t be afraid to tell me stuff like that in the future. I’m not gonna judge you, like I said before, or laugh at you. If you ever wanna get something like that off your chest, please tell me.”

Tony’s focus has been on the acts of violence that the kid has endured, but he hasn’t thought much about _that_ aspect of the abuse. The fear, the embarrassment...the _dirty_ that surrounds it all...those are the feelings that can hinder a person from coming forward and getting help.

So for Peter to come out and say _that_...damn...that’s a good sign.

The kid nods his head against his crossed arms, “Okay....”

“Do you wanna continue using the Scrabble pieces to talk? Or would you rather write down your thoughts instead?”

Peter lifts his head from his arms and nods his head, “Um...can I do both?”

“Yeah, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

The kid half-smiles again, “Thanks.”

Tony returns the smile with one of his own, “You don’t need to thank me, kid.”

The timer then dings which signals the end of their session.

The child’s smile falls, “Mr. Stark?”

The genius looks at him in mild surprise, “Yeah?”

Peter nervously swallows again, “Um...there’s still stuff I haven’t told you….”

_This poor damn kid._

Tony folds his hands on the edge of the table, “Do you want to tell me anything else? Before your aunt gets here?”

The kid shakes his head, “I don’t want to...not yet...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you told me a lot today; you were perfect, buddy.” Peter smiles fully at that.

They both then hear a light knock at the cracked door. They look up to see that May, clad in a dripping raincoat, has arrived and Peter’s eyes brighten like they always do when one or both of his guardians are picking him up. The tyke quickly pushes the game pieces from the last two messages off the board before he runs up to his aunt.

That act doesn’t go unnoticed by Tony. The boy pushed the pieces away as if he didn’t want May to see what he wrote.

_Interesting…._

As he’s getting up, the doctor makes a mental note to ask May and Ben about what all Peter has told them.

May kneels down until she’s at eye-level with her kid and gives him a hug, “Hey, sweetie, how was it?”

Peter has a small smile on his face when he hugs back, “It was good, um...we talked a lot….”

The woman gives her nephew an encouraging smile, “That’s great, baby! You ready to go?”

“Uh-huh,” Peter then grabs his jacket and waves at his doctor, “Bye, Mr. Stark.”

Tony waves at him from behind his desk, “Bye, Peter, see you next week.”

May sees her nephew leave the room and once he does, she gives the other adult a look that says, “Is he telling the truth?”

To ease her mind, Tony says, “He did great today, more than great, actually, you should be proud.”

The aunt sighs in relief, “I am, Tony, you have no idea. Thank you, I’ll, uh, see you next week.”

May turns to the door, but then she turns right back around, “Oh, I almost forgot, um...okay well, Peter is sleeping over at Ned's on Friday night, and Ben and I are having a bit of a, uh, get-together of sorts with a few friends and I just want to say that...you’re welcome to come...if you want to. If you don’t want to, that’s completely fine, it’s not an obligation, but I wanted to, uh, make sure you were invited...wait, you do know our address, right?”

Tony plops in his desk chair in shock. He would have predicted a rabid dog to crash through his window and bite his head clean off before getting invited to a house party...by his patient’s aunt.

_Well...this is awkward._

The doctor puts on a smile and nods his head, “Yeah, I have it from your paperwork and, uh...thanks for the invite. What’s the occasion?”

“There isn’t one, really, it’s just...I like to entertain and I used to do this stuff all the time, but then Peter...and yeah, um...yeah. So when the plans for him and Ned were made, Ben said that I haven’t done that in a while and, well...I decided to go for it.”

Tony’s smile grows, “That’s great, May. Doing something normal, something that you used to do before...all this...that’s a good thing.”

May looks at the therapist with hopeful eyes and sits in a chair across from him, “Really? I...I was hesitant, I didn’t wanna...be insensitive or anything.”

“You're not, trust me. Everyone wants to have fun, and trying to find fun in the midst of all the hurt...it can be hard. You and Ben both deserve to make time for yourselves, and having a childless party will be good for that. Don’t beat yourself up, you’re doing great.”

The other adult gives him a grateful smile, “Thank you...you don’t know how much I needed that.”

 _Trying to find your "old" normal in the midst of all the "new" normal...I understand more than you know._

“No worries, May. As for the party...I’ll think about it, thanks again.”

Once his clients leave, Tony sits at his computer to wrap things up before he heads home. The party invitation was a sweet gesture - albeit a weird one - but he’s not actually planning to go. Yes, he’s known the Parkers for a few months now, but they’re not like... _friends_ or anything. Going would just be awkward, and plus, he wouldn’t know anyone else that will be there.

So yeah, he’s definitely not going.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some tooth-decaying fluff, my dudes 😊

Tony’s gut decided that it just  _ had _ to tell him to go to this damn party.

And now he’s here. 

At the Parkers’ doorstep. 

In Queens. 

At eight-thirty at night.

_ Why, why, why, why, why…. _

He could turn around...he hasn’t even knocked on the door yet.

No one knows he’s here.

But seriously, why is his gut telling him to walk in...why is it wanting him to be an extrovert all of a sudden?

Well...he  _ did _ drive all the way here; if he drove back, it would just be a waste of gas. With that thought in mind, Tony reluctantly knocks on the door.

The door opens and the billionaire sees Ben on the other side of it with eyes so wide that they look like they could pop right out of his head. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting Peter’s doctor to actually show up.

_ Wow, I totally overstepped. _

Ben blinks, probably to snap out of the shock, “Hey, Doc. Um...come on in, how you doing?”

The genius walks into the dimly lit apartment, admittedly a tad anxious, “Good, good...hope you are.”

The policeman lowers his voice, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Oh, um, everyone else is out on the balcony, but try to keep your voice down while you’re in here, I just put Peter to bed.”

Tony gives him a confused look, but copies the tone, “Peter’s here?”

“Yeah, Ned caught some kind of stomach bug thing, so no sleepover. And it was, uh...too late to cancel.”

“Ah...pesky time constraints….”

“Yeah...anyway, there’s, uh, there’s snacks and drinks outside. Don’t worry, we have a couple of heaters so you won’t freeze to death.”

_ I would welcome that death with open arms right about now. _

Tony follows the other man outside to the slightly crowded balcony. He greets May, who looks as equally surprised to see him as her husband was, but genuinely happy all the same. He is then introduced to the other three guests and grabs a beer from the cooler.

May drags a chair from inside and manages to squeeze Tony in among them, which makes the man feel even more awkward. He sits in the chair and takes in his current surroundings: there is music playing from a stereo and small heaters are placed on either side of the balcony, making the experience a lot more bearable in the chilly April night. There is also a cooler with drinks and a small table with various snacks; the doctor can tell that this was all thrown together at the last minute, but it’s still charming for what it’s worth.

Once the guests got over the shock that  _ Tony freakin’ Stark _ is among them, the conversations are actually pleasant. The other three people were all friends with May and Ben in college so the genius mostly just listened to the stories of them going down memory lane. It reminds him of some of his MIT days with Rhodey, so at least it’s entertaining. 

After a surprisingly fast couple of hours goes by, Tony excuses himself to the bathroom. When he walks out, he notices a dining table that is set up with a few unlit candles and a floor-length tablecloth. This must’ve been where the party was originally going to take place before the plans got thwarted.

He is about to walk past that table when he glances down and sees a few little toes peeking out from underneath the tablecloth.

_ Peter? What’s he doing up? _

After making sure that no one else is walking in, the doctor kneels until he’s at eye-level with the table. He then whispers, “Peter? Is that you, buddy?”

The man hears a slight gasp and a small voice speaks from the other side of the fabric, “Mr. Stark…?”

Tony moves a couple of dining chairs out of the way and lifts the cloth. He then takes in the sight before him: his eight-year-old patient is sitting under the table with arms hugging his legs and fear in his eyes. The man’s heart aches at that and he puts on a gentle smile, “Hey...fancy seeing you here.”

Peter’s eyes widen in surprise, “Um...hi?”

“So...whatcha doing down here?”

The child doesn’t answer. He folds his upper lip over his bottom one - not unlike what he did during their session the other day - and shakes his head.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad.” The man jerks his head towards the outside door, “Want me to get May and Ben -”

Peter cuts him off by hastily shaking his head “no.”

“Um...okay, uh...do you want  _ me _ to leave, ‘cuz I can totally do that.”

The kid thinks about it for a couple of seconds before shaking his head again.

_ Okay, then...so what do I do now? _

Tony asks to make sure he and the kid are on the same page, “So...you want me to stay?”

The child nods his head and scoots over slightly, implying that he wants his doctor to join him.

_ Seriously, kid...seriously? _

The man asks one last time, “Are you sure?”

The kid nods again, faster this time. He then shyly ducks his head to where his face is just peeking out over his kneecaps and he gives his therapist big, pleading eyes.

_ Yup...I’m seriously doing this. _

Tony takes off his jacket and tosses it on one of the chairs. He then takes a deep breath and, after a moment’s hesitation, crawls under the table.

_ I can’t believe I’m actually fucking doing this. _

The billionaire makes sure to not accidentally touch the kid as he gets settled in. His own knees are curled up with his hands resting on top of them and head resting awkwardly on the underside of the table. For the first time in his life, he’s thankful to be the same height as the average man because he can’t imagine someone being over six feet tall and trying to do this.

The genius turns to the fellow mini-genius, who is still looking at him with that same pleading expression, and decides to start off with a light topic of conversation, “Y’know, I gotta say...this takes me back to when I was a kid. I liked hiding under the table too.”

The kid half-smiles and meekly asks, “H-How’d you know I was here?”

Tony points at his patient’s feet, “A few of your little ‘piggies’ went to the market without you knowing.”

Peter stares at his feet, “Oh…." He then scoots back his feet so that they're completely hidden behind the tablecloth. 

The man playfully smirks, “So...whatcha doing up? I thought you were supposed to be in bed."

Peter’s gaze is still on his toes, "I was but, uh…it's stupid."

_Oh boy._

"I mean I can't read your mind, kiddo, but I got a feeling that whatever you're thinking about isn't actually stupid.” 

Peter lays his head on the tops of his knees, facing away from the older man, and whispers, “It’s still embarrassing….” 

“Remember what I said last time we talked? About how I’m not gonna judge you or laugh at you?"

The child nods his head against his knees.

The therapist continues, “That hasn’t changed...that will  _ never _ change. Now, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but I will say this: it  _ is _ just us here. So if you do want to get something off your chest, no one can hear anything.”

The kid bites his lip and looks back at his doctor, head still resting on his knees, “Are you sure?”

Tony smiles in encouragement, “Positive.”

Peter bites his lip again and moves his head to stare at his lap, "I...I, uh...had a bad dream….” He then tightens his grip on his legs.

Judging by the way the kid's toes start to curl, Tony can bet money that he knows what the dream was about.

The man looks at his patient with sympathy, "I'm sorry, kiddo...you wanna talk about what happened in the dream?"

The child gives him a confused expression, "But we're not in your office."

"That's okay...it's kinda cozy down here, actually."

_ If I wake up tomorrow and don't walk like the Hunchback of Notre fucking Dame, I'll be pleasantly surprised. _

Peter doesn't say anything for a few seconds. He then turns to stare at his lap again and whispers, "I-I...I saw  _ him _ again."

Tony knew that was coming but it’s tough to hear, regardless. His hand itches to physically comfort the boy but that would more than likely have disastrous consequences.

The tyke then uses one of his hands to fidget with his glasses like he always does when he’s about to say something that is related to Skip. With his other hand still wrapped around his legs, he continues, "He...he found me. He was g-gonna do what he did last time. But, b-but...I didn't wanna do it, Mr. Stark."

_ Jesus…. _

Peter is still going, "I-I was running as fast as I could and-and I couldn't find May or Ben or Ned...or you...and...and...he found me and I woke up."

Tony looks at the kid with a pitiful expression, "That...that sounded like it was really scary, buddy."

The kid doesn't seem to have heard him, "I-I was scared that he was back, but then I-I remembered the party. So...I thought that if I'm close to the grown-ups and he finds me, he wouldn't...do anything...so I crawled down here."

"I don't blame you, that was a smart thing to do."

The kid murmurs, "I don't  _ feel _ smart."

Tony's eyes squint in bemusement, "Why do you say that? I know you know you're smart, kid."

Peter drops his hand and doesn't answer for what feels like a full minute. When he does, he sounds embarrassed, "I...I...I wet the bed...again...like a baby." 

The billionaire continues looking at the kid with sympathy. Bedwetting is common with children who have been through this kind of trauma, he should’ve seen that coming, “That doesn’t make you a baby, you were scared; everybody gets scared.”

“Does  _ everyone _ wet the bed when they get scared?”

_ Shit, he’s backed me into a corner. _

“No...not everyone does.”

“So, I  _ am _ a baby.”

“No you’re not, I promise, you’re just as much a ‘big kid’ as the other eight-year-olds out there. Yes, wetting the bed is embarrassing, but it’s completely normal.”

“But I don’t  _ feel _ normal, Mr. Stark. He’s...he’s made me scared of...everything...and I hate it…” Peter says the last part more softly than before, “I hate _him_ ….” He then turns his head and again faces the completely opposite direction of his doctor.

_ Me too, kid...you have no idea. _

“That fear isn’t gonna last forever, Peter, I promise.”

Peter turns his head around to look at his doctor again, still resting on his kneecaps, “So when...when will I stop being scared all the time? And don’t say ‘before I’m fifty.’”

“Kid, I can’t put a timestamp on stuff like this...you’re just gonna have to trust me on this one.”

The child groans and lays his forehead back on the tops of his knees, “ _Fiiiiiiiine_ …time sucks.”

Tony snorts, “Yeah...time is annoying, isn’t it?”

Peter nods his head against his knees, “If it takes  _ time _ to do anything then why does it always take so long?”

“It only feels like it’s forever because you want the time to move faster. If you let nature take its course, time will fly by before you know it.”

“I hope so.”

“I  _ know _ so...you wanna know what I’m thinking about right now?”

Peter turns his head towards his doctor and looks at him with curiosity. He then nods, ever so slightly.

Tony gives the kid a fond smile, “I think you’re actually being pretty brave.”

The child jerks his head up, disbelief evident on his face, “Um, Mr. Stark...we’re sitting under a table. What ‘brave’ person hides under a table?”

“Sitting under a table to hide from someone who hurt you doesn’t make you not brave. He hurt you, I don’t blame you for not wanting to see him. What makes you so brave is that you’re still talking to me about him even though you’re scared.”

Peter gives an unamused look, still not believing what his doctor is telling him, “But I’m  _ supposed _ to talk to you, right? Or else I won’t get better?”

“Yeah, but talking’s not an easy thing to do, bud. And with those Scrabble pieces the other day, that was some of the best progress you made yet.”

The kid’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline in surprise, “Really?”

Tony’s grin is a mile wide, “Really. Don’t put yourself down so much, you’re doing great.”

Peter’s cheeks redden at the compliment and he lays his head back atop his knees, still facing his therapist, “Mr. Staaaaaark….”

The man laughs at the heart-melting shyness, “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

The child shakes his head.

“Then you gotta believe me, squirt.”

Peter giggles a little, himself, “Okay….”

They sit in companionable silence for the next few minutes, with Tony having no idea of what to exactly say next.

_ Maybe the kid just likes the company. _

When the man hears his client loudly yawn, he concludes that their spontaneous session under a dining table has come to an end.

The genius points out the yawn, “And on that note, I think it’s time for bed.”

A strike of fear flows through Peter that doesn’t go unnoticed by Tony. The boy then tentatively nods his head and lifts if from his knees.

In an attempt to help with the trepidation, the doctor decides to make a risky move, “Want me to come with you?”

Peter looks up at him and nods his head again, rapidly this time.

“Okay, let’s go.”

The child lifts the tablecloth and, after seeing that the coast is clear, crawls from under the table and rushes to his room. 

Tony crawls out and starts to follow suit, but then he sees May stare at him from the other side of the balcony door. She gives him a look that screams, “What in the literal  _ fuck _ are you doing?” and he smiles at her in reassurance. The man then awkwardly points towards the hallway where Peter just went and gives her a “thumbs up” in the hopes that that explains “I got this handled.” May somehow seems to get it - well,  _ kind of _ get it, at least - and discreetly returns the gesture with a quick but questionable “thumbs up” of her own.

The billionaire turns on a light switch that he hopes is for the hallway and guesses correctly when his eyes sting to adjust to the sudden brightness. He can’t help but smile when he walks into the kid’s room to see toys scattered on the floor and coloring pages strewn across a small desk. Honestly, the man wouldn’t be surprised if he accidentally steps on a Lego.

The doctor sidesteps around what looks to be the kid’s dirty pajamas and sees Peter’s face illuminated by a dim night-light that must be plugged in next to him. The tyke takes off his glasses and starts to crawl into bed, but he then quickly gets back out of it.

Tony asks, “Everything okay, kid?”

“Um…” the child whispers in shame, “The...the bed’s not totally dry yet.”

_ Oh…. _

The doctor responds while the kid puts his glasses back on, “Uh...that’s okay. Got any extra sheets, I can put them on for you.”

Peter is one step ahead of him and already pulling his closet doors open. After a few seconds of frantic searching, he then answers, “I don’t see any more.”

The last thing that Tony wants to do is snoop through the Parkers’ house for more sheets, so he opts for “plan b”, “Hang on a sec.” The man quickly walks to the bathroom he was in earlier and gets a towel from the adjoining closet. He hurries back and gives it to the kid, “Next best thing.” The boy takes the towel and places it on his bed before crawling onto it.

Tony turns on the nightstand lamp and sees that the kid took off his glasses and is now laying on his side while clutching a teddy bear.

_ That is the cutest fucking thing. On this fucking earth. _

_ Kill me. _

The older man kneels until he’s at eye-level with the bed and asks, “Are you comfortable?”

The boy’s cheeks redden and he nods his head, “Yeah, it’s dry...thank you....”

Tony smiles, “No sweat...think you can go back to sleep?”

“I think so…” the kid then gestures to his teddy bear, “I got Benny so...it’ll be fine.”

The man lightheartedly snickers, “Benny? Benny the Bear?” He sees the child nod and the doctor continues, “Lemme guess: you named it after Ben?”

Peter nods again, grinning this time, “He gave him to me...aaaaaand it was the first name I thought of.”

Tony’s snickers increase, “Nah, it’s cute, kid.” He then gently says, “Now remember, your aunt and uncle are just outside, so if you have another bad dream, you can go see them. They won’t be mad at you, I promise.”

The kid’s smile falls and he tightens his grip on his plushie, “Okay...okay.”

Tony then stands up and stretches his now stiff back, “Goodnight, kiddo, I’ll see you next week.”

The tone of the response is just above a whisper, “‘Night….”

Tony barely even had time to turn off the lamp when he is suddenly held back by a small hand tightly gripping his own.

Peter whispers, so soft that the man can barely hear him, “Please don’t leave.”

Tony looks back at the boy and sees how scared he looks.

_ Oh, buddy. _

The child whispers again, “What if he comes back?” He seems to take notice of the fact that he just held his doctor’s hand and hastily mutters “Sorry” before letting go and hiding said hand under his bear.

_ Well...I can’t leave on that note, can I? _

Tony quickly grabs the kid’s desk chair and drags it in front of the nightstand. Once he sits down, he slowly lays his hand, palm side up, on the edge of the bed, like it’s an unspoken invitation that gives Peter the option to accept or deny.

After a few seconds, the kid accepts that invitation and tentatively puts his hand on top of Tony’s.

The man gives his patient another smile and squeezes their grip in reassurance, “He’s not gonna come back.”

Peter locks eyes with his doctor, “You don’t know that.”

The billionaire sighs, “You’re right...you’re right, I don’t know that, but I do know this: Sk-He doesn’t know where you live, that’s why you guys moved. He doesn’t have a clue where you moved or even that you moved at all.”

“It’s just,” the kid squeezes the man’s hand, “I’m scared....”

Tony soothingly rubs his thumb over the back of his patient’s hand, “I know you are, and I wish there was something I can do, but your aunt and uncle aren’t letting you out of their sight for a second. They’re not gonna let anything like this happen again.”

Peter then looks away from his therapist’s gaze, “I wish I said something.”

The man gives him a look of confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I...sometimes...I wish I said something...‘cuz then he’d be in jail now, and I wouldn’t be scared of him coming back all the time. Are you scared of your S-Sk-Skip coming back?”

Tony’s eyes widen in surprise. He wasn’t expecting  _ that _ confession in a million years.

_ Holy shit...that’s gotta be a good sign, right? _

After blinking out of the shock, the older man answers the question, “No, no I’m not...and it  _ is _ because he’s in jail...but that wasn’t an easy thing to do. I had to go to court, I had to tell everyone what happened like a million times; I had to wait and see how the jury was gonna vote...it wasn’t a fun process.”

The child now looks defeated, “But you still did it...I’m just a wuss.”

Tony shakes their grip to get the tyke’s attention, “Hey, look at me,” he continues when the kid looks back at him, “You’re not a ‘wuss’, no one thinks that _at all_. No one blames you for not wanting to talk, that was a scary thing you went through. There’s no need to rush that sort of stuff, you’ll talk when you’re ready.”

The boy rolls his eyes, “Lemme guess: it takes _time_?”

Tony snorts at the sass, “Bingo.”

Peter groans, “Fine...sorry I kept you from the party.”

_ Oh shit, forgot about that. _

The genius playfully smiles, “That’s okay...wanna know a little secret?”

The kid’s eyes brighten in eagerness and he quickly nods his head.

Tony continues, “You’re way more fun to hang out with than all those  _ boring _ grown-ups back there.”

Peter’s smile grows, “I knew it.” Tony snorts in response and the boy asks, “Um...so, uh...how are you?”

The man knows the kid is only asking because he’s stalling to sleep, but he plays along, “I’m good, kid, I’m good. Hope you’re good now.”

The child shrugs, “Yeah...but I’m scared I’ll get a bad dream again.”

“Whatever you dream about, none of it’s real. I know it’s easier said than done, but try to remember that, okay?”

Peter nods, “Do you...do  _ you _ ever get bad dreams?”

_ Where do I begin? _

“Yeah sometimes, not as much as I used to...I fell off my bed one time because of one.”

“I thought that only happens to kids.”

“Nope, adults too.”

“What was it about?”

_ Oh, we’re  _ not _ unpacking all of that tonight. _

“Um...remember when I said that I used to be in your shoes?”

The child’s eyes widen, “Oh….”

Tony responds defeatedly, “Yeah….”

The kid bites his lip again and squeezes their grip, “Sorry.”

The doctor squeezes back, “Don’t be...it was a long time ago.”

“But you’re better now, right?”

_ Eh…. _

“Well...better than I once was...but when I said that stuff takes time, I wasn’t saying that for giggles.”

Peter deeply sighs, “I know….”

The man then takes a glimpse around the child’s room. He takes note of the various Legos and puzzle boxes, “So you like building stuff, huh?”

The boy smiles, “Yeah, it’s a lot of fun. It, uh...keeps me busy.”

Tony hums, “Really? Busy how?”

“Um…” Peter bites his lip yet again, “Sometimes, um...sometimes if I’m, um...thinking about  _ him _ a lot, I like to color, or play Legos or something...it keeps me from thinking about it so much.”

It then clicks with Tony about how much sense that makes. Why Peter always likes playing games during their sessions or the way he fidgets with his glasses whenever a heavy subject is about to be brought up...it’s to keep him distracted.

The genius smiles in mild surprise, “You like to keep your hands busy, nothing wrong with that...I like to do that too.”

“Really? You do puzzles and stuff too?”

“Well, not necessarily puzzles but...I do like to tinker with stuff...build stuff.”

Peter’s eyes bug out in excitement, “What do you build?”

Tony takes a second to gather his thoughts before he answers, “Well, I like to work on cars...also got a couple robots, they’re good company.”

“ _Robots_?! You have actual robots?”

“They’re not like fancy robots or anything, but...I keep ‘em around.”

“Can I see ‘em sometime?”

_ Oh shit, back off, Tony, back off. _

“Maybe...we’ll see, kiddo.”

“I hope so, that’d be _awesome_.”

Tony was about to comment more on that when he sees the tyke yawn.

The kid keeps talking despite himself, “So...robots are kinda cool, huh?”

Tony can tell that Peter is still afraid to go to sleep and asks, “Aren’t you getting a little tired, bud?”

The child yawns again, “No...what makes you think that?”

_ He’s got the poker face of freakin’ Pinocchio. _

Tony decides to humor the kid - and maybe he’ll finally get to sleep, “Did I tell you about this dog I saw outside of Starbucks this morning?”

As expected, the kid’s eyes brighten, “No, what did it look like?”

The man smiles cheekily, “Well, it wasn’t too small or too big, had white and brown fur….”

For the next few minutes, all Tony does is talk about that damn dog at that damn coffee shop. After those minutes have passed, he sees that his plan is working because the boy’s eyes are drooping heavily with sleep. 

After another thirty seconds or so, Peter’s eyes have fully closed and his breathing has evened out, meaning that the kid has finally nodded off.

Tony carefully places the child’s hand on the bed and sits back fully into the chair. He can’t help but look at him with awe.

He looks so peaceful.

So peaceful that one wouldn’t have a clue as to what all is going through that boy’s head. 

_ Hopefully his head can simmer down for a little while, at least. _

The doctor turns off the lamp and gets up as quietly as he can. With the help of the night-light, he wheels the chair back to the desk and after one last look at his patient - making sure said kid hasn’t woken up - he leaves the room.

As he turns towards the hallway, he sees Ben leaning against the wall in front of him with a cheeky grin on his face. He talks softly so he doesn’t disturb his nephew, “Wow, Doc, remind me to leave you a review on Angie’s List.”

Tony snorts, “You give me anything less than an ‘A’, I  _ will _ hunt you down, officer.”

Ben laughs good-naturedly as they walk into the living room. The cop then turns around and faces Tony, “In all seriousness, thank you...you really didn’t need to do all that, I’m sorry I wasn’t there -” 

The billionaire holds up a hand to cut the other man off, “Don’t apologize, I didn’t mind a bit. Peter had a nightmare, all I did was fight off the ‘Boogeyman.’”

“It sounds like you did a lot more than that, Stark...how is he?”

“He’s good, for the most part...you don’t need to guess what the dream was about.” Tony hears the other man defeatedly sigh before he continues, “I wanna let you know that he also had an accident.”

The officer winces, “Thanks for telling me….”

The genius then asks, “Does it happen a lot, the bedwetting?”

“Yeah, once or twice a week, at least...why, is something wrong with him, is he okay -”

“He’s fine, it’s normal, I was just asking. There’s nothing wrong with him, he’ll grow out of it eventually, but bedwetting is more common amongst kids with Peter’s...history, so it might take longer for him to grow out of it than the average child does.”

The policeman sighs again, “Noted. Again, thanks for taking care of him...I’m pretty sure that wasn’t part of your job description.”

Tony half-smiles and crosses his arms, “Actually, I learned a lot tonight...like the fact that your kid has no imagination when it comes to naming his stuffed animals.”

Ben can’t help but laugh, “Hey, give him a break, his brain’s running outta room with all that knowledge.”

The therapist laughs along with him, “Alright, touché.”

When they calm down, Ben jerks his head to the balcony, “Party’s still going, you’re welcome to come back and join us.”

Tony mulls it over a few seconds before responding with, “I-I really shouldn’t, I don’t wanna be in the way -”

“You’re not in the way, everyone kept asking where you went, man. Besides, you haven’t said anything about  _ your _ college days and I can bet money that you got some zingers.”

_ Wait, they asked about me? _

“Are you sure?”

Ben rolls his eyes, “ _Yes_ , y’know for a ‘bajillionaire’, you’re pretty insecure about yourself.”

_ The day you find out why is the day I’m six feet under. _

It’s Tony’s turn to roll his eyes, “Fine, fine, I’ll  _ grace _ you with my presence, how ‘bout that?”

The other man snorts as he grabs more beers from the refrigerator, “Perfect.”

Tony puts on his jacket and follows Ben to the balcony where he is greeted by May for a second time. The doctor is absolutely convinced that her charming smile could have the power to end wars.

He grabs another beer and sits in that same chair he was in earlier. As he’s talking to everyone once again, he feels a strange warmth unexpectedly fill his chest. 

_ Maybe that’s just the beer talking. _

Or maybe it’s not. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your patience, I know it's been a while since my last update, I've been...distracted by other fics 😂 I hope this long one makes up for it, I really hope you enjoy!!!!
> 
> Trigger warning: (both off-screen) - mentions of a panic attack and bullying

It is eight o'clock the following Monday morning, one hour before Tony gets his first patient of the day, and he is already settled in his office.

May is sitting in a chair on the opposite side of his desk with tired-looking eyes but in a good mood all the same. With her and Ben's constant conflicting schedules, the only time for her to meet was this morning right after she wrapped up a night shift. And since Tony has back-to-back patients for about the whole day, he agreed to meet before his day starts.

Tony kicks off the meeting by asking a light question to break the ice, "How was Peter this weekend?"

The nurse grins immediately, "He was good, he was in a pretty good mood about the whole time...he talked about you practically nonstop."

Tony's eyebrows shoot to his hairline in surprise, "Really?"

May grins, "Yeah, he talked about what you did for him...that was really sweet of you, Tony, but you didn't have to go and destroy your back to help him."

_ Yeah I did, and it was totally worth it. _

"It's okay, May, really. I mean, it took me a few extra minutes to get out of bed the next morning, but it's all good, I was happy to do it."

The woman chuckles at that, "Um, how 'bout you? Did you have fun?"

The man grins himself, "I did, actually, I had a lot of fun. Thanks for inviting me, everyone was great."

"Good, good...I'm glad. We all-we all had fun too, we liked having you there, I hope you can come to more of them."

_ Wait, really? _

"Yeah, absolutely."

_ Okay, why in the fuck did you say that?  _

While ignoring the thoughts in his head, Tony's voice turns solemn, "Okay, so the reason why I wanted to talk to you in person is because...I want to ask you something."

May's voice turns serious as well, "Okay...is-is, is everything okay, is Peter okay -"

"He's fine, he's fine, I just wanna know...how much did Peter tell you about the abuse, exactly? If you feel comfortable answering that, of course."

As expected, May’s face turns sorrowful, “Oh um, yeah...yeah, that’s fine…” she takes a breath before she continues, “To be honest, he hasn’t said... _anything_. Ned told us that Peter told him about the...the touching and the um...the um...yeah.” She then briefly pauses to take a couple more deep breaths, “And-and Peter won’t talk to us, he doesn’t say anything about it except if we ask him questions and even then, he only shakes or nods his head...but it’s still something, right?”

The doctor repeats, “But it’s still something.”

_ That’s discouraging. _

Tony then asks, “Has he confirmed any details of any kind?”

The nurse shakes her head, “No, um...no, we didn’t want to ask...we don’t want to scare him, y’know? Um, may I ask why you wanna know, did Peter say something?”

The mechanic sighs, “He didn’t say anything, it was more of...he  _ showed _ me something.”

“Like what?”

“The last session we had, we played Scrabble, and he wasn’t comfortable enough to talk so he communicated by using the letters from the game.”

May looks absolutely heartbroken as she mumbles, “My poor baby.”

Tony is quick to reassure her, “He was fantastic last week, May, trust me on that. When you picked him up, there was still a message on the board and he messed up the letters so you wouldn’t read it -”

“But  _ why, _ why isn’t he talking to us? I mean...I’m not gonna be mad at him or tell anyone or say anything about Skip, just...I’m grateful that he’s talking to you, don’t get me wrong, but...I just wanna help him.”

“Lots of times, it’s easier talking to someone who doesn’t know you very well. I mean, I’m Peter’s doctor, I only see him once a week, typically, and I am detached from the rest of his life if that makes sense. We still don’t know each other that well, I don’t know what he’s like living at home, he talks about his friend all the time but I haven’t met him. From what I’m gathering, and this is no offense to you or Ben at all, he’s too embarrassed to talk about this to someone he’s close with...but I’m surprised he hasn’t told you more than he has.”

May then asks, bordering on frantic, “Are we doing something wrong? Like is there something that we should do or say or -”

“It can get frustrating - understatement of the year, I know - but honestly, just keep doing what you’re doing. Be there for him, don’t force him to talk, just...love him and let nature take its course. He’ll open up one day, but...there might also be some details that you’ll never know, it’s all up to him.”

May nods her head, still worried but settled with the outcome, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Can you...can you tell me how far he’s gotten in his progress?”

Tony spends a few moments in internal struggle, trying to find the right words to use. He then answers, “He’s started easing into the molestation, but he hasn’t said anything about the...really bad stuff yet.”

_ And I’m dreading the day he does. _

The woman determinedly nods her head in what seems to be satisfaction, “Good...he sounds like he’s doing well...thank you.”

Tony smiles at her and ends their meeting with, “He is doing great, he’s a brave kid...give him some time, he’ll come around.”

May stands up and holds her hand out for the doctor to shake, “Thank you for seeing me, Tony, um...I’ll see you later, I guess.”

The billionaire stands up as well and shakes her hand, “Of course, May, have a good day.”

He sits back down once May is out the door, head resting in his hand in thought.

While his questions did get answered, they still left him wanting more...like why Peter hasn’t opened up to his aunt and uncle since he started seeing Tony. The man has a hunch but he knows better than to assume.

_ I guess I gotta find that out from the kid, myself. _

-

The following week, Tony had just escorted one of his patients out the door when he feels his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. He doesn’t recognize the number that’s calling him but with his line of work, that’s the norm. 

But he doesn’t give out his cell phone number to just anyone. Maybe it’s a robocall, he thinks.

He answers it anyway, “Hello?”

“Hi, um...is this Tony Stark?”

Sensing the apprehension, Tony softens his tone as he settles in his desk chair, “Yeah, speaking, how can I help you?”

“Um...hi, this is Pam from Queens Explorers Elementary, are you connected in any way to Peter Parker?”

The man’s eyes widen in surprise, “Uh, yeah, I’m his doctor. Wait, how’d you get my number?”

“According to our records, you picked him up from school a few months ago. When May Parker told us you were picking him up, we added your information to Peter’s list of contacts. I hope that’s okay?"

That stuns Tony even more, “Oh, um, yeah...yeah that’s fine. Why are you calling me, is Peter okay?”

“Um…” the woman’s hesitation makes the doctor’s heart rate intensify. Before he can repeat the question, the receptionist answers it, “I tried to get ahold of his aunt and uncle before I called you, but they didn’t answer.” Her voice then turns concerned, “Peter had a panic attack during recess just a little while ago.”

The genius sighs sympathetically, “Is he okay, what happened, where is he now?”

“He’s fine, he’s fine now, he’s sleeping it off in the nurse’s office as we speak. No one knows what caused it, though; according to both his teacher and the nurse, he refused to say anything." 

_ Figured as much. _

The woman then asks, "His teacher doesn't think it’s best for him to finish the school day, is it possible for you to come pick him up? She’ll get his stuff together and have it ready for you.”

Tony looks at the clock on his desktop computer. He has another patient in just over an hour...he could make it if he leaves  _ right now, _ “Yeah, let him sleep, I’ll be there in thirty.”

-

Tony calls Peter’s guardians and leaves them voicemails on his way to the school and to his surprise, he arrives in less than half an hour. He goes to the front desk and Pam then leads him to the nurse’s office. When he walks into the room, he sees the kid sitting up on the cot and rubbing his eyes under his glasses, insinuating that he just woke up.

The mechanic greets the nurse and walks up to his patient, giving him an amiable smile, “Hey, kiddo, didya miss me?”

Peter grins at seeing his doctor, surprised to see him, “Hi, Mr. Stark.” His smile falls as he bites his lip, “I’m-I’m sorry, I’m sorry -”

Tony goes to put his hand on the tyke’s shoulder but stops himself at the last minute, letting his hand hang awkwardly in mid-air. He keeps his tone ever so gentle, “Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, you’re okay...it’s all okay.”

As he drops his hand, the child says ashamedly, “But I, I tried to do that ‘puppy’ thing you did to get me outta my freak out and I couldn’t do it, I’m sorry.”

Before Tony can say any more assurances, the kid takes him by absolute shock and smushes his head against the man’s chest.

_ Oh shit, oh shit, what do I do now? _

Tony is stiff as a board, not knowing what to do next. His hands are kept on either side of the kid - making sure to not touch him - and takes in a breath, “It’s okay, the ‘puppy’ thing is hard to do when you’re by yourself, I’m proud of you for trying.”

Peter mumbles against his therapist’s shirt, “I should’ve been able to do it.”

“You’ll do it someday, but today is just not that day, bud, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

No one says anything for a few seconds until Peter speaks in a small voice, “I’m sorry.”

“Kid, I don’t wanna hear you say ‘sorry’ ever again, okay, none of this is your fault.” Tony bites his lip in contemplation. 

All he wants to do is give this little guy a hug, a hug that lets him know that he is safe and sound.

So Tony makes yet another risky move.

With the kid's head still on his chest, he slowly takes one of his hands and rests it on Peter's back, close to his neck. 

Tony doesn’t know what to expect when he initiated the contact. Is the kid going to flinch, have another panic attack, or something else entirely? 

But Peter doesn't do anything. Instead, he leans more into his doctor's chest and says, "I'm sorry you had to pick me up."

_ Well damn… _

The kid isn't reacting to this  _ at all. _ Tony grins and has to work to keep his giddiness from showing. 

The man uses his thumb to soothingly rub the base of the boy's neck, "Hey, what did I just say about the sorries, huh? I don't mind a bit, I'm just glad you're okay. Do you know what caused your freak out?"

He feels Peter tense up at that.

_ Oh boy. _

Tony reassures him, "I'm not gonna be mad, whatever it is. Did something happen today?"

Again, the kid doesn't say anything, leading the doctor to sigh despairingly. Maybe he'll talk more in the car, Tony thinks.

The genius gives Peter one last comforting rub before letting go, "You ready to blow this joint?"

The tyke nods his head before lifting it and adjusting his glasses, "Are you taking me home?"

"Heck no, I'm not leaving you home alone, you're coming back to the office with me."

Peter smiles up at him, "Oh cool! I've never been in your office on not a Wednesday."

Tony smiles back, "Well hate to break it to ya, kiddo, but my office looks the same every other day of the week too."

"But still, it's not Wednesday."

The mechanic snorts at that. 

_ Kids can really be fascinated by the most random shit. _

"Alright, ready to go?"

Peter nods as he gets off the cot. Tony takes the kid's backpack and slings it around his shoulder before signing him out. 

He's  _ really _ going to have to speed to make his next appointment on time. 

-

Tony just got onto the highway when he decides to try again, "Alright, Pete, it’s just us now...do you wanna tell me what happened today?”

Peter doesn’t say anything, making the atmosphere in the car grow tenser the longer the silence is dragged out.

Tony doesn’t coerce him. He keeps his ears on the radio and his eyes on the road, although he does keep giving the kid sideways glances every few seconds or so.

After several minutes, Peter speaks up with shame in his tone, “Promise you won’t tell May and Ben?”

Tony hesitates at that. There are some details that he would never tell May and Ben, but the reason why he has occasional meetings with them is to talk about Peter’s progress. With the boy being so young, his guardians have to be aware of what’s going on and how their kid is doing. There is such a fine line between telling them and keeping the secret, however embarrassing it will probably be, and so far, Tony has successfully tiptoed around it.

But he couldn’t not tell them that Peter had a panic attack at school...so how is this secret going to play out?

The doctor takes a breath, “Yeah, kiddo, it won’t leave this car.”

_ Please don’t make me regret saying that. _

He looks at the kid and sees his cheeks tinged red and hands are under his thighs. The man’s heart goes out to the little guy like it always does.

Peter himself takes in a breath while staring out the windshield and speaks so softly that Tony has to turn down the already low volume on the radio to hear him, “They gave me a wedgie.”

Tony’s eyebrows raise in dismay, not fully grasping what his client just said, “What?”

The tyke repeats himself with that same tone, “They gave me a wedgie...they’ve never done that before.”

The man gratefully stops at a stoplight and looks at the kid fully, “Who?”

Peter bites his lip, still staring straight ahead, “Some kids at school.”

_ Are you fucking kidding me? _

Tony gets angrier the more he thinks about it. So on top of everything that this child has gone through, he’s also having to deal with bullies.

_ Someone give this kid a damn break. _

The billionaire keeps his voice as calm as he can, “And that’s what caused the attack?”

The boy, now on the verge of tears, nods his head, “I…” he wraps his arms around his middle,  _ “Ugh, _ I’m so stupid!”

Tony’s voice softens, “Peter, you know you’re not, just tell me what happened, bud.”

The light turns green as the tyke answers, “I...I thought they were...S-S-Skip…” he sniffles before continuing, “I thought S-S...I thought  _ he _ was back and I got so scared that he would -” he cuts himself off with a sob and curls his knees to his chest, breaking Tony’s heart into a thousand pieces.

_ Man, _ does he wish they weren’t in the car right now.

“Peter, he's not coming back, he’s not coming back because he doesn’t know that you’re going to school in Queens now. He’s not coming back, buddy.”

Peter wipes a few tears from under his glasses before he starts fidgeting with them, head damn near buried behind his knees, “I know, but I couldn’t help it. It just-it just made me think about what S...S-Skip would do and...I don’t wanna do it again, it sucked  _ so bad.” _

Tony continues glancing at the tyke while he’s driving, “I know it did, kiddo...I know it did. But I promise you, he’s never gonna hurt you again.” 

“I keep trying to believe it.”

“I know it’s hard, but you just gotta keep telling yourself that he’s not coming back. One day, you’ll believe it.”

Peter takes a few deep breaths and puts his feet back on the floor, “Okay.”

Tony sighs in relief at seeing the kid calming down. However, he can’t not delve into his school situation, “So, these kids, you said they’ve never done that  _ before, _ does that mean they pick on you a lot?”

He sees the young genius nod his head out of the corner of his eye, “They’re older kids, so they only pick on me at recess….”

Tony doesn’t say anything, patiently waiting for the kid to continue and after a few seconds, he does, “They never did anything like that before, they normally just call me names. But then today I was hanging off the monkey bars and, um...yeah. Everyone was laughing at me, Mr. Stark, even when I started my freak out, they all just laughed….”

_ I fucking hate kids. _

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. Do you have any friends at that school?”

Peter gives the man an unamused look, “Why would I? Who wants to be friends with the kid who always gets picked on?”

Tony then thinks back to their first session together, about how the kid said that he’s not good at making friends...and about how long ago that session was, “How long has this been going on?”

“Since I started. I was sitting on the tire swing...but it was  _ their _ tire swing - which is so stupid ‘cuz it’s not like their names are on it or anything - and they pushed me off. They’ve been annoying me ever since.”

“Kid, for God’s sakes, the school year’s almost over.”

“I know, but I thought that if I ignored them, they’ll leave me alone...but then the wedgie-thing happened…."

Tony sighs, “Do May and Ben know about this?”

The kid swiftly shakes his head and looks at his doctor with wide eyes, “Don’t tell them,  _ pleeeeease _ don’t tell them! You promised you wouldn’t.”

_ Fuck, I knew I was gonna regret that. _

“You’re right, and I’m nothing if not a man of my word...which is why  _ you’re _ gonna tell them.”

Now the eight-year-old is looking downright scared, “No! No way, I don't wanna tell them -”

“Why not?”

“It’s just gonna get worse, it  _ always _ gets worse when someone snitches.”

“Did those little punks tell you that?”

“No but everyone knows it, it's like an unspoken rule or something. They’ll give me wedgies like every day if I tell.”

“With the route they’re going, they’re gonna start doing that anyway, but once you tell May and Ben, they’ll stop this crap.”

Peter stares at his fidgeting fingers in his lap and says, “Can I think about it?”

_ It’s not a “no”, so better than nothing, I guess. _

“Yeah, that’s fine, you can think about it while I’m with another patient.”

The kid’s eyes brighten, “Oh yeah, I forgot you help other people.” He props his elbows on the armrest and rests his hands on his cheeks, staring at his therapist, “What are they like?”

Tony can’t help but snort in amazement. What kid goes from crying to grinning over the span of barely twenty minutes? This one, apparently. 

The genius briefly looks at his charge with fondness before turning his eyes back to the road, “They’re good, they’re good people...all trying to get better, just like you.”

“Do they see you for the same reason why I see you?”

“Actually, I can’t tell you that.”

Peter adorably tilts his head in confusion, “Why?”

“I’m not supposed to. It’s against the law for me to tell people other people’s information.”

“Wait, really? Like, you could go to jail if you told people about why I come see you?”

“Not jail, jail’s a little extreme, but I could get sued, I  _ should _ get sued if I did that. The worst that could happen would be that I could lose my license and I’d no longer be able to help people.” 

“Whoa...they sound really strict about that.”

“Yeah, and they should be. How would you feel if I started telling people about why you come see me?”

Peter's cheeks redden, “Embarrassed….”

“Exactly.”

“So no one knows about me?”

“Nope, except for your aunt and uncle, not a soul.”

The child smiles thankfully, “I know you’re not telling anyone ‘cuz you’re not supposed to...but it’s still nice.”

“Even if those laws weren’t there, I still wouldn’t tell anyone. It’s none of their business.”

Peter’s cheeks flush at the consolation, “Thanks….”

-

They get back to the office with a few minutes to spare. The man has Peter sit on the bench that’s right outside the office door and sets his backpack next to him for the kid to do his homework.

Tony then kneels in front of his client and says carefully, “Okay, the patient that’s gonna be here in a few minutes...she likes having the door closed. Are you gonna be okay with that?”

He sees the kid immediately start to hitch in his breath and develop a fear in his eyes. Tony curses inwardly; he was expecting this but hoped for a better outcome, “Okay, okay, that’s okay, try to relax, we’ll think of something else.”

While still kneeling, the doctor looks around the room and his eyes go to a table stacked with outdated magazines. He stands up and grabs one off the table, tightly rolls it like a diploma, and opens the main door slightly before placing it on the ground to act as a door stopper. He turns back to the kid and gestures to what he just did, “How ‘bout this? While my office door is closed, this one will still be open.”

The tyke stands up and goes to inspect the door. After a few seconds, he looks up at the older man and nods, seemingly satisfied with the change.

Tony’s other patient arrives not long after that. She shakes his hand and smiles at Peter, who has now settled back onto the bench. She looks back at her doctor and asks him, “Is he yours?”

“Uh…” the man blurts the first thing he thinks of, “Holding him for a friend, they’ll be picking him up soon.” He takes a quick look at the main door to see it’s still cracked before he turns to Peter, “Just knock on the door if you need me, okay?”

Peter wordlessly nods head and starts getting out his books to do his homework.

Tony gingerly closes the door as he escorts his client in, saying a silent prayer that his other patient won’t have his second panic attack of the day in the meantime.

-

Thankfully, Peter seems to be fine once the hour is up.

The woman has redness surrounding her eyes as she says her goodbyes to both her doctor and the kid, who shyly smiles back. Once she’s gone and Tony picks up that magazine, Peter sadly remarks, “That lady was crying.”

The billionaire casually leans against the doorway to his office, periodical still in hand, and says solemnly, “Yeah, she was.”

“Why?”

“Remember what I said in the car? I can’t tell you.”

“Oh yeah.” Peter then bites his lip before asking, “But is she gonna be okay?”

Tony nods his head, “Yeah, she’s gonna be okay...it just takes -”

_ “Time,” _ the kid rolls his eyes, “That’s like the worst word in the world.”

The doctor laughs at that, “C’mon, hang out with me in here, I don’t have any more patients today.”

Peter gets off the bench and brings his stuff into the office, “But school’s not even out yet.”

“Nope. On Tuesdays, I’m busy in the morning but not the afternoon.”

The tyke puts down his stuff and sits on the middle cushion of the couch, “What’s your busiest day?”

Tony sits in his chair on the other side of the coffee table, “Mondays and Thursdays. I have back-to-back patients about the whole day.”

Peter hums, “What’s your least busiest day?”

The man gives him an unamused look, realizing what the kid is doing, “Kid, you gotta tell your aunt and uncle about what’s going on at school. If you want, you can tell them here, I’ll be right here with you.”

The boy shakes his head, anxiety evident on his face, “No...no, Mr. Stark, I-I don’t wanna tell them.”

“Want me to, I’ll be happy to do it.”

Peter hurriedly shakes his head, “No! You said you wouldn’t,  _ please _ don’t.”

Tony sighs in frustration, “Peter, they have to know -”

“No they don’t, there’s no point in telling them now, it’s almost summer vacation. Mr. Stark, please just drop it.”

The man’s voice stays firm but not intimidating, “You know I can’t, bud. And so what if the school year’s almost over, once school starts back up again, they’re just gonna go right back to doing this sh-crap.” He briefly pauses to make sure it sinks in, “But if you tell May and Ben, they could put this to rest and the bullying will be over before the week’s out.”

Peter’s voice is now bordering on panic, “Mr. Stark, it’s fine, I can handle it -”

“It doesn’t matter if you can handle it, you shouldn’t  _ have _ to handle it. Peter, you have to tell them.”

“I can’t!”

Tony raises his voice in annoyance, “Why not?”

The child then screams, “‘Cuz they’ll look at me weird again!”

There is a silence that flows through the room as the kid covers his mouth in shock. Obviously, he didn’t mean to say that out loud.

But Tony is so glad he did because  _ finally, _ the man has something to work with. 

The doctor leans forward in his chair, eyes focused on his now trembling patient, and lowers his voice to a caring tone, “What do you mean ‘they look at you weird’?”

The child’s eyes are now glistening with unshed tears. He only answers with a shake of his head, hands still covering his mouth.

Tony swiftly moves to his normal spot on his side of the coffee table, thinking that the kid might open up if there is a sense of familiarity like in their sessions. He crosses his arms on top of the table and attempts to put the tyke’s mind at ease, “Peter, if they look at you weird, they probably don’t realize they’re doing it.” He locks eyes with the kid and gives him a gentle smile, “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on. Can you tell me what you’re thinking?”

Peter’s voice is muffled due to his hands still covering his mouth but what he says is clear, “You’ll tell May and Ben.”

Tony hesitates for a second before saying, “No I won’t, I promise. Whatever you tell me won’t leave this office.” 

And he meant it. No matter how big of a mistake that affirmation might be, he’s going to abide by it, damn it.

Peter takes his hands off of his mouth and fidgets with them in his lap. His tone is just above a whisper, “I mean...they  _ already _ look at me weird...but they’ll look at me even more weird if I tell them.”

The older genius softly replies, “But if you tell me why you think they look at you weird, we might can try and fix it.”

Tony feels uneasy at the moment. With his encounters with the Parkers these last several months, he’s never noticed a time when May and Ben showed anything except love for their kid. And Peter himself has never shown any animosity towards his guardians, never once blamed or resented them for the abuse he suffered. The therapist has absolutely no idea of what this little guy is talking about.

The boy curls his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around them. He rests his chin on his kneecaps and stares at the table when he finally starts, same tone as before, “Ever since S-Sk...S-Skip happened...they’ve been looking at me weird.”

Tony nods his head to acknowledge that he’s listening, “Uh-huh….”

“And I hate it. It’s like when they look at me...they’re always sad...even when I’m happy, or when I’m not thinking about...about  _ him, _ for once...they look at me and they get sad.” The kid pauses to sniffle, “And then  _ I _ get sad ‘cuz I know why they’re sad...I don’t like seeing them sad. And I don’t know what to do to stop them from being sad.” He then stares at his doctor, eyes more watery than they were earlier, “I just want them to look at me like a normal kid again, Mr. Stark.”

_ Well damn…. _

The kid didn’t get the exact wording but Tony knows what he’s trying to say.

Peter doesn’t want to be seen as a victim.

Like any kid - or adult, for that matter - he just wants to be treated like everyone else is treated. He doesn’t want to be babied or pitied...because when a person feels like they’re being babied or pitied, they feel worthless, insignificant...less of a person.

Tony knows exactly what that feels like.

And the doctor knows May and Ben don’t mean to do that on purpose, he knows they love their child more than anything...which is exactly why they  _ do _ look at him like that. The tricky part is trying to explain that to their eight-year-old.

Tony starts off by asking, “And that’s why you don’t wanna tell them about the bullying? Because you don’t want them looking at you like that again?”

Peter sniffles again and nods his head, “They already do but it’ll be worse if I tell them...they’re gonna treat me like a baby.”

Tony gets a tissue box from one of the drawers and scoots it to Peter’s side of the table, “Pete, I know it sounds annoying, but they only do that because they love you.”

“But they didn’t do that before the...things happened. They didn’t even do this after my parents died...well, they did a little bit but  _ then _ they treated me like normal...but it’s been so long since we’ve seen S-Skip and they still look at me sad. Does that mean they didn’t love me as much before S-S...he happened?”

The billionaire rubs his eyes in despair before putting his hand back in the crossing position. “No, they loved you before all that happened. I can bet every penny I own that they loved you even before they took you in.” The man briefly pauses to sigh, “There’s something you gotta know, Peter.”

The kid’s head snaps up, immediately giving the man his undivided attention.

The older genius continues, “Skip hurt them too.”

The boy’s eyes widen in horror and he quickly scoots down to the space between the table and couch, “What?! What did he do, are they okay -”

Tony holds up a hand to cut him off,  _ “Not _ like that, they’re fine...sorry, I should’ve worded that better.” Once his charge settles down and wipes his eyes with a tissue, he continues, “Skip hurt you...and it hurt them to find out that you were so hurt. Does that make sense?”

_ You know it fucking didn’t, dumbass. _

Peter shakes his head, confirming Tony’s thought. He tries again, “Yeah, I don’t even know what I just said...okay, how do I word this…” he takes a moment to get his thoughts together before continuing, “Has anyone ever told you that what you went through was ‘traumatic’?”

The tyke gravely nods his head, “My other doctors said it...it’s like a fancy word for ‘really bad’, right?”

“Yeah, yeah it is. When your aunt and uncle found out about what happened to you, they also went through something traumatic.”

Peter’s eyes widen in fear once again, “Why? Were they really sad?”

Tony nods his head, “Yeah, they were sad, they were...traumatized because they just couldn’t wrap their heads around the fact that something so awful happened to you, and like you, they need time to get better.”

“Like me?”

“Not to your extent, by any means, but kinda. You gotta keep in mind that they’re adjusting as well. They’re doing all they can to help you, but they’re also scared.”

“Of him coming back?”

“Not necessarily, but they are scared of you not getting better, and how this is gonna affect you as you get older. They just want you to get better  _ so _ badly because they don’t want this thing that happened to hold you back from living your life.” Tony sees the confusion in his patient’s eyes and finishes his statement before the kid could ask, “I know it’s probably hard to understand ‘cuz you don’t know what the rest of your life is gonna be like, but know this: they just want you to be happy. They’re so scared that because of what happened to you, you’re not gonna be happy.”

“And that’s why they look at me like that?”

“I can’t read their minds, but that’s my guess. They love you more than anything, and they will  _ do _ anything to make sure you’re happy and safe...so the next time you see them look at you weird, don’t take it personally, they’re just trying to cope with everything just like you...one day, they’ll look at you normal again.”

“Does that mean I should start telling ‘em stuff?”

“What do you mean, what kinda stuff?”

“Y’know...what I tell  _ you?” _

_ Holy shit, did I hit the jackpot or what. _

“Well, you should  _ definitely _ tell them about the bullying. As for the rest of the stuff, that’s up to you...may I ask how much you’ve already told them?”

Peter’s cheeks redden to the color of a lobster as he answers, “Not a lot...they ask questions and I answer them, but I don’t...I don’t  _ say _ my answers.”

“That’s okay, that’s completely okay, you said something and that’s what matters. Do they know anything about what you said with the Scrabble pieces?”

The child nods his head, “They know about the...about the...t-t-t-touching and-and the really bad stuff...but not the...when he made me t-t-...t-t-....”

Tony cautiously finishes what he thinks the boy is trying to say, “They don’t know that he made you touch him?”

Peter nods his head in confirmation, “Do I have to tell them that?”

“Do you  _ want _ to tell them that?”

The kid shakes his head, cheeks still red from embarrassment.

The billionaire then asks, “May I ask why?”

“‘Cuz it’s embarrassing...and I don’t wanna make them more sad than they already are. I don’t wanna worry them.” 

_ This is making so much more sense now, thank God. _

The boy then looks at Tony with a confused expression on his face, “Wait...they don’t already know that?”

Now the doctor is also confused, “No...if you haven’t told them then how would they know?”

“I thought...I thought  _ you _ were supposed to tell them stuff like that.”

Tony shakes his head, “Nope, I don’t tell them any details, I just talk about your progress: how you’re doing, how much you’re talking, things like that.”

Peter loudly sighs in relief, “Really?!”

“Yup...whatever embarrassing things you say stays between you and me, pal.”

The boy sighs again before planting an almost serene smile on his face, “Thank you so much...so I can tell you  _ anything _ and you won’t tell them?”

Tony smiles, “Correct...unless you told me you killed somebody,  _ then _ I would have to tell them.”

Peter giggles at that, “They wouldn’t believe you, I’m too cute for them to think I killed someone.”

The man playfully scoffs, “You little stinker...you’d probably make it look like I did it, wouldn’t you?”

The kid snickers mischievously, “You said it, not me.”

Tony can’t help but laugh along, shaking his head in disbelief while doing so, “You, my friend, are  _ so _ full of surprises.”

“So are you!”

“How? I’m the most predictable person in the world.”

“No you’re not, I didn’t know you don’t tell May and Ben pretty much everything I tell you.”

“And that won’t change, by the way.”

Peter grins shyly and bites his lip, “And I  _ don’t _ have to tell them anything?”

“Nope, only if you want to.”

The tyke’s cheeks flush at that, “I haven’t told them anything about you either.”

Tony is taken aback, “Wait, really?”

“Yup, they don’t know about your S-S-Skip or anything...they don’t even know about that time you peed yourself.” The boy confirms with a timid half-smile.

The man’s eyes widen slightly in utmost surprise, “Wow, um...thanks.” He then smiles in return.

Tony feels a warmth fill his chest at that, a different kind of warmth this time. It’s not one of pride or solace or even of a general likeness towards the kid.

It’s a warmth of trust.

And he knows it’s crazy to put trust in an eight-year-old, a  _ traumatized _ eight-year-old at that.

But Tony can’t put his finger on it, it feels right to him for some reason.

The man has a blissful smile on his face when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. At seeing that it’s May, he answers and after the woman says about a million “Thank yous”, she tells him she’ll be there in half an hour.

Once the doctor hangs up, he relays what May said to her kid, “She’ll be here soon, bud.”

Peter nods, now with a serious expression on his face, “You really want me to tell her, don’t you?”

Tony nods his head in return, “I promise, once you tell her, your time at school is gonna be a lot more fun.”

“She’s not gonna think I’m a wuss or anything, right?”

“She doesn’t think that about you at all. Did those kids tell you that?”

Peter groans, “Yeah, they said they’ll call me stuff like that if I tell...and they’ll tell everyone else to start calling me that too.”

“They’re just saying that to scare you into not telling anyone. Trust me, once May and Ben find out, they’re gonna stop bothering you.”

The tyke softly responds, “I hope so...can we play a game or something?”

“Yeah sure, go pick one out.”

Peter picks out a board game and brings it back to the coffee table. They play and make light conversation until May arrives, sweet as ever, “Hey, sweetie!” 

The child quickly gets up and gives her a hug. May then kneels in front of him and reciprocates, “How’re you feeling?”

The boy gives his aunt a bashful smile, “I’m good now...sorry I freaked you out.”

The nurse soothingly rubs her kid’s arms, “Don’t be sorry, I’m just glad you’re okay.” She glances between her nephew and his doctor, “What happened?”

Peter looks at his doctor with fear in his eyes, prompting Tony to give an encouraging smile and say, “It’s okay, I promise, she only wants to help you. You can do it.”

May nudges her nephew to get his attention, “He’s right, baby, whatever it is, I won’t be mad.”

The child turns back to her, cheeks reddening once again, “I-I don’t know….”

His aunt then sits on the floor with her legs crossed, smile still shown on her face to hopefully encourage the kid, “Do you want Mr. Stark to tell me what happened?”

Peter glances back at his doctor before he looks back at May and shakes his head, “Um, some...some k-kids gave me a wedgie. I-I-I thought they were...I thought they were...I thought they were S-S-Sk-Skip...I’m sorry, I’m sorry -”

May, looking heartbroken, cuts him off by embracing him in another hug, “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, he’s not here now, it’s all okay. I'm so sorry, baby.”

The boy hugs her back, face buried in her shoulder and legs collapsing into her lap, “I don’t know what to do, I don’t wanna get any more wedgies.”

“And you won’t, not if I can help it. We’ll talk about this more when we get home.” The woman lets go and looks at her kid directly, “Thank you for telling me, I’m so proud of you.”

Peter blushes, “Mr. Stark told me to tell you.”

May looks at the secretly giddy man in question and asks, “Did he now?”

Tony, still sitting in his normal spot at the coffee table, answers in stride, “He made promise not tell you, I had to work in a loophole somehow.”

“I’m so glad you did.” The nurse turns back to her kid, “You ready to go, sweetie?”

Peter nods his head and grabs his things. While doing so, his guardian and therapist get up and greet each other, with May immediately rambling, “Thank you so much, Tony, I honestly can’t thank you enough. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick up, I’ll pay you -”

“No, you’re not paying me for this, it’s okay,  _ more _ than okay, actually, I don’t mind. I’m just glad I was able to help him.”

“Me too...thank you again, for everything.” Her kid walks over to her with his bookbag and she lovingly ruffles his hair, a sad smile shown on her face, “We’re gonna fix this, okay?”

Peter nods his head and looks up at his doctor, “Bye, Mr. Stark.”

That smile.

That sad look that Peter was just talking about, Tony can absolutely see it now. The pity, the melancholy, the  _ sorrow _ that is in just one simple facial expression.

As much as he knows how good May’s intentions are, the man can’t help but feel empathy for the kid.

Tony’s loved ones looked at him like that for months after Afghanistan and it made him damn near stir-crazy...the tyke must be getting fed up with it too.

The billionaire resists the urge to also ruffle the kid’s hair as he replies, “Bye, see you tomorrow...I’m real proud of you today, Pete.”

The child smiles in response before he and his aunt exit the office.

Once they leave, Tony drops himself into his desk chair and lets out a sigh of both exhaustion and content.

In addition to tending to his other clients, Tony drove to Queens to pick up a patient whom he doesn’t even meet with until tomorrow, got said patient to admit he’s being bullied, unexpectedly got his nagging questions answered, and still managed to get the child to leave with a smile on his face. 

_ Eh, just your typical Tuesday. _


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!! I didn't intend to have another 7k+ word chapter but...it just kinda happened 😂 I hope you enjoy!!!!
> 
> Trigger warning: Anxiety is a big issue for most of the chapter (there's no full-blown attack, don't worry), and more heavy stuff gets talked about later on. As always, it's not graphic but please be careful!!

It's going to be a bad day.

Tony hasn't even gotten out of bed yet and he can already tell.

The way his heart is racing, that feeling of being on edge, how he's having to remind himself to breathe.

The doctor knows this all too well.

So well that he calls this an "anxiety day."

And they fucking suck. 

_ Nothing like unprompted anxiety to start my morning...huh, that should be a commercial. _

With a sigh, Tony begrudgingly gets out of bed and starts his morning routine.

These days were more common after everything with Afghanistan, waking up and feeling as if his senses have been elevated. With every sound, whether it be from the water heater, air conditioning vent, or ambulance sirens, it all sounds so close, so  _ loud, _ even though none of it actually hurts his ears.

Life is just not fair; he didn’t even have a nightmare, he actually had a good night’s sleep, so why is this giant anxiety-monster knocking at his door today?

Tony tries to keep the jumpiness to a minimum as he brushes his teeth and showers. He irrationally thinks the hot water could cure this stupid thing so he stays in for longer than he knows he needed, taking in the temporary comfort of the heat.

Once he’s dry, the billionaire is in his closet and about to put on an undershirt when he unintentionally catches his reflection in the mirror...unintentionally catches his  _ scars _ in the reflection of the mirror.

Sometimes they don’t bother him, sometimes he forgets the wounds are even there. 

But sometimes, he can’t take his eyes off of them.

A few of the scars around his chest and torso have started to fade, and he knows they’ll fade more as years pass by.

But they’ll never truly go away. The memories of how those cuts and burns appeared will forever be embedded in both his skin and his mind. 

The doctor quickly shakes his head and snaps out of it by hastily putting on the undershirt, followed by the rest of his clothes. He forgoes the heart-attack-inducing coffee and instead gets a banana - they supposedly help with anxiety, he’s heard. He then has JARVIS turn on the local news as he sits in his chair, hoping the noise will be a good distraction.

The first thing to pop up is an overly cheery meteorologist discussing the day’s weather.

_ “Well, y’know what they say about ‘April showers bring May flowers’ and that cannot be truer than today, folks. On this bright Wednesday morning, we expect such flowers as the temperatures continue getting warmer -” _

Tony zeroes in on the day of the week.

_ Fuck, it’s Wednesday. _

Of all the fucking days to have a bad day, it has to be  _ this _ fucking day.

The man leans his head against his chair and sighs in pure hopelessness.

Is he going to be able to play a board game with the kid today, can he handle having a whole-ass  _ session _ with the kid today?

Can he handle having a session with  _ anyone _ today?

Wednesdays are Tony’s slowest days, he only has a few patients - Peter included - so, in retrospect, he should be lucky to be feeling like this now and not on a busier day.

But that doesn’t make him any less tempted to call out.

He won’t be of any help like this, he can barely even think straight. All he wants to do is to go back to bed and sleep this shit off.

Or take a second shower...a three-hour second shower.

Or a bath...he could just sleep it off in the bath. 

_ Nope...nope nope nope nope, don’t start thinking like that. _

He’s not doing it, Tony is not calling out only to wallow in his own misery. These people need his help and he’s willing to put aside his own issues to do that, plus, he really doesn’t want to go through the trouble of postponing those meetings.

So today is going to be fine, the genius thinks; these episodes are normally cleared up by about midday anyway, he will be _just_ _fine._

The mechanic grabs some food to eat while at the office but as he’s leaving, he catches sight of the cabinet that contains his anxiety medicine that he’s supposed to take on days like this.

He doesn’t need it, Tony thinks. He didn’t use them on the last “anxiety day” he had and by mid-afternoon he was better. He just needs to let nature - or whatever the fuck this is - take its course and he will be just. Fucking. Fine. 

With that thought in mind, he is out the door, absolutely and perfectly  _ fine. _

-

Well, that banana didn’t do shit because _boy_ does Tony regret not taking his anxiety medicine.

If he’s being honest, he regrets leaving the house altogether.

The doctor was a bit jumpy with his first two patients but he managed to push through without any problems. He actually thought once his second patient left that his anxiousness would be settling down but it’s no better than it was when he woke up this morning.

So the man tries to not make a big deal out of it and continue the rest of his day like normal. He checks emails, listens to messages, eats the food he brought, tries and fails to not stress-drink so much water, which then results in more annoying bathroom visits than usual.

Tony soon gives up and props his elbows on the desk before resting his head in his hands. He stares at his desk while taking deep breaths, focusing his mind on the different grains of the wood, how they’re moving in intricate but arbitrary patterns, taking note of each imperfection that he can see in a last desperate attempt to finally put himself at ease.

He keeps taking those deep breaths, willing his heart to slow the fuck down but it’s not working. He is still on edge, has this dread that something bad is going to happen even though he knows nothing bad will  _ actually _ happen; it’s like the “fucked up” part of his brain has taken over his entire body. No matter how many times he says “You’re fine”, he still has goosebumps and he doesn’t know how to stop his knee from shaking.

All he wants to do is disappear, to get out of here and drive until the radio turns to static.

The doctor jerkily lifts his head when he hears the main door open and looks at the clock on his computer.

It’s four o’clock.

Just one more patient and Tony can finally check himself out.

_ It’s just a game with the kid, just play a game with the kid and you’re done. _

Tony walks out of his office and greets his clients, smile plastered on his face and silent prayers that it’s believable. He then shakes Ben’s hand and escorts Peter into his office, said kid already rambling away, “Hi, Mr. Stark! Can you believe that summer vacation is almost here? Me and Ned are already figuring out what to do for sleepovers and everything!”

The man responds, only half-listening to his patient’s rambling, “Yeah, that’s great, kid.”

Peter makes himself at home on the middle cushion of the couch, per usual, “Oh, and those kids aren’t picking on me anymore. They got in  _ soooo _ much trouble after May and Ben called the school, no more wedgies or anything.”

Tony plops himself into the chair on the other side of the coffee table. He leans back and gives his charge a genuine smile, no matter how hard it is for him to do so, “That’s fantastic, Pete, I’m glad they’re not bothering you anymore.” He puts a hand on his knee that has resumed bouncing in an effort to still it, but all it’s doing is just bouncing his hand as well.

“Me too.” The child then crosses his legs on the couch cushion in front of him, “Um...thank you.”

The older man raises an eyebrow, “What for?”

“For making me tell them, and for...making me tell  _ you. _ They’d probably still be giving me wedgies if I didn’t tell anyone so...thank you.”

Despite feeling like his heart is going to burst out of his chest, Tony feels pride fill it, “You’re giving me too much credit, squirt, I’m proud of  _ you _ for telling us. Are you having more fun at school now that all of that’s cleared up?”

Peter nods his head, “Uh-huh well, kinda...I mean, I still don’t have any friends….”

Tony gives him a compassionate look, “Aww -”

“But it’s fine! I mean, better for no one to talk to me than getting wedgies and people calling me names all the time. And I still have Ned so...it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo, you’ll make friends soon, I know it.” The man has given up on trying to still his knee so now his main focus is just on remembering to breathe.

_ In and out, Tony, in and out. _

Peter blushes at that. He then asks, “Can we play a game?”

For some reason, that simple question makes Tony so damn nervous, but he tries his best to keep his cool, “Yeah...yeah, of course, go pick one out.”

He leans back in his chair as his patient gets up and grabs a board game. The doctor actually had plans for today: since the kid revealed so much through the Scrabble pieces, he bought a small whiteboard and a few dry-erase markers to see if Peter would talk more without the limitations of the letters from the game. 

But with how Tony is feeling, there is no way in hell that’s happening.  _ God, _ this shit should’ve been cleared up by now.

Still sitting in his chair, the older genius sees his charge return with a board game and put it on the coffee table. The game of choice today is Candyland.

_ Thank God. _

Candyland is probably the easiest board game to play: the player draws a card, goes to the colored space that matches that card, and first to the finish line wins, with little to no thinking involved. 

It’s perfect for Tony to play in this state.

The man reluctantly gets out of his seat and sits in his usual spot on the floor. The kid is on the other side setting up the board, “I haven’t played this game in so long.”

“Yeah, me either.” The billionaire picks out the blue pawn in a humorous attempt to match how he’s feeling. 

Peter picks out the red pawn and the game starts.

The conversation starts out easy enough: the kid is rambling about literally everything and his therapist is failing at trying to keep up, choosing to stay quiet so his anxiety doesn’t worsen. About ten minutes into the game, however, the man is startled by Peter’s sudden question, “Are you okay?”

Tony’s eyes widen in surprise and feels his heart rate increase, which is the  _ last _ thing his body needs, “Uh, uh yeah...yeah, I’m good, why d’ya ask?”

The child raises an eyebrow, “‘Cuz you haven’t said like anything since the game started. I know I talk a lot but you always say  _ something.” _ The kid then looks startled himself, “Wait, am I annoying you?”

The genius quickly answers, “No, absolutely not, I promise.” He then decides to reveal a bit of a half-truth, “I’m just, uh, not feeling one hundred percent today, kid, I’m sorry.”

That only seems to worry the kid, “Wait, you’re sick?”

“Um...kinda, I guess. It’s not contagious, it’s just, uh...a ‘me’ thing.”

Peter props his elbows on the edge of the game board and rests his chin on his fists, “What kinda thing?”

_ Why are kids so damn nosy? _

“It’s nothing that you need to worry about.”

“But I’m worried anyway.”

“Kid -”

“Mr. Stark, you worry about  _ me _ all the time, it’s only fair.”

“That’s not how this works, bud.”

_ For the love of God, stop talking. _

But Peter keeps going, “Aunt May’s a nurse, remember? She can help you -”

Tony can’t take it anymore and lashes out, “No she can’t, Peter!”

A tense silence instantly takes over the office as both of them scoot a little ways from the table, with Peter pressing himself into the couch behind him.

The doctor sees the frightened look in his patient’s eyes and feels guilt immediately creep into his rapidly beating chest. He stares at the floor and whispers, “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” He starts having to remind himself to breathe again as he scoots farther away from the coffee table only to wince when he feels his back hit the bottom of his chair.

The man tilts his head to where it’s resting on the chair cushion and covers his eyes with one of his hands, too afraid to both look at his charge and delve into a full-blown attack.

He hears the tyke shyly speak up, “Mr. Stark -”

Tony cuts him off with another whisper, not leaving his position, “Just give me a minute...just  _ please _ give me a minute….” 

So Peter does, but the man doubts that that has to do with obedience and more to do with fear.

The therapist stares at the popcorn ceiling through the gaps between his fingers, studying each and every bump in that hideous design. He keeps on breathing like he’s about to run out of oxygen.

Like he’s stuck in that cave all over again.

Tony doesn’t know how long he stays that way. That’s the funny thing about “anxiety days”: he loses about all concept of time because why worry about time when he has so many other things to worry about that take higher precedence?

But nothing in this world shocks him more than when he suddenly feels two little arms tentatively wrap around his torso in a hug.

The man drops his hand and looks down to see two brown eyes staring up at him through thick black frames, still full of innocence despite seeing so much hurt.

Peter is sitting in Tony’s lap, arms wrapped around the man and chin resting on his chest. He then whispers, “Just keep breathing, Mr. Stark” before pressing his cheek fully into his doctor’s chest and tightening his grip. 

Before Tony can stop to think, he wraps his own arms around his patient and does just that.

He keeps breathing.

The mechanic feels the little guy breathe along with him and he takes solace in that.

_ Breathe with the kid...just keep breathing with the kid. _

He has no clue how long they stay like that, but he doesn’t feel the tyke budge, so he’s not budging either.

For the first time since last night, Tony feels his heart rate lessen and he finally starts to calm down.

It took about twenty years, but he still counts it as a win.

Peter lifts his head from his doctor’s chest, “Your heart sounds like it’s beating normally again...are you feeling better?”

Said doctor smiles almost peacefully at the kid, too relieved to feel embarrassed, “Yeah...yeah.” He doesn’t have the energy to say anything else at the moment so he just keeps his arms wrapped around Peter.

The child smiles back, “Good! Um...I’m sorry I freaked you out.”

After taking a few more deep breaths, Tony finds his voice, “You didn’t freak me out, trust me, none of this is your fault...I’m just a mess today, that’s all.”

“Are you still a mess?”

_ When am I not? _

“Not as much as I was this morning. Thanks to you, I’m feeling  _ so _ much better.”

Peter blushes at that, “Um...this is how Aunt May and Uncle Ben help me outta my freak-outs, so I’m-I’m glad this helped...and stuff.”

That perks Tony’s ears up, “Really, this is what they do?”

The boy nods his head, “Uh-huh, well, they make me take deep breaths first, but then they hug me and just tell me to keep breathing and that S-S-Skip won’t hurt me anymore. Listening to their heartbeats helps too. I don’t know why, but it does.”

The older man’s smile grows, “Because it’s comforting...hearing someone else’s heartbeat lets you know you’re not alone.”

“Ohhhh...that’s nice….”

“Yeah, it is.” 

Another thought hits Tony.

Peter crossed the coffee table.

The billionaire knows that the kid has gotten more comfortable around him - the hand-holding and almost-hug are evidence of that - but he never expected him to cross the table.

Much less to give him an  _ actual _ hug.

The man then blurts out, “You crossed over the table.”

The child’s cheeks turn to an adorable shade of pink, “Um...yeah, I...you always help me with  _ my _ freak-outs so, um…I-I wanted to help you with yours, is-is-is that okay?”

Tony unconsciously tightens his grip on the tyke and smiles reassuringly, “Of course it is...thanks, kiddo.”

Peter lays his chin back onto his therapist’s chest, still looking up at him, “You’re welcome...you’re really comfy, by the way.”

The older genius chuckles at that, “Is that a nice way of telling me I’m fat?”

The boy’s eyes widen in fear, “No! No, it’s not that, you’re just-you’re just really soft and warm but not like warm like the weather but like warm like cozy and cuddliness and-and-and -”

“Relax, I’m just kidding,” Tony starts laughing good-naturedly, “But that’s really sweet of ya.”

The kid eases up and settles more into Tony, “But yeah...you’re really comfy.”

Tony feels like his heart is going to burst but this time with sunshine and butterflies, “So are you, squirt.”

The billionaire glances at the timer and sees that he didn’t even set it. Damn, was he really that out of it?

He then pulls out his phone to look at the time and his eyes widen when he reads it because  _ holy shit, it’s already halfway through the hour. _

The Parkers definitely aren’t going to be charged for this week’s session...maybe he ought to call up his own therapist, Tony thinks.

He puts his phone away and looks back at the kid, “Pete, I got a question for you.”

The kid looks up at him, eyes full with interest, “Yeah?”

Tony takes in another breath, “You wanna go for a ride?”

-

As grateful as Tony is for Peter helping him - and for it actually working, no less - nothing cures his anxiety more than when he’s driving.

He can’t explain why, exactly, he just knows it works, that feeling of being one with the road, no one knowing or giving a shit that  _ Tony Stark _ is driving. The car doesn’t care, the road doesn’t care,  _ nobody _ cares.

Which is why Tony loves it.

The doctor sent a text to Ben before they left to let him know that he’s taking the kid for a brief ride to help him “open up.” He feels bad for lying but a therapist explaining his own mental health issues to his client’s guardian would just scream trouble for everyone.

The two of them have been in the car for several minutes now, with Tony driving aimlessly through various backroads not far from the city.

Except for the low volume on the radio, the atmosphere is almost silent. 

It’s not a tense quietness, but more of a cautious one, as if both parties are afraid to say something that could possibly trigger the other.

Or maybe the kid is just uneasy because he’s in a car with his doctor who may or may not be a bit unhinged.

Wait,  _ is _ the kid scared? Tony quickly looks at him to make sure; if his patient is scared, he’s turning right back around.

But Peter seems perfectly fine, just quietly staring out the slightly cracked window at the passing fields and farmhouses. Tony then puts his focus back on the road and takes in another breath, this one of relief.

This is just what he needed.

The child then snaps his doctor out of his trance when he timidly asks, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Tony briefly glances at the kid with uncertainty and says lowly, “It’s probably not a good idea.”

“I always feel better when you make me talk about my freak-outs…” the kid then recoils, “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to, please don’t be sad, I’m sorry.”

The man smiles before he can stop himself; the child’s empathy really is quite admirable, “Don’t be sorry, you have nothing to be sorry for...I just don’t wanna scare you, that’s all.”

Peter’s eyes widen and he bites his lip, seemingly in deep thought, “I mean…” he then shrugs, “I’ve been through some scary stuff too...stuff that you...stuff that you still don’t know about...and I’m kinda scared to tell you.”

Tony takes a glimpse at his charge in concern, “Why?”

“‘Cuz…‘cuz it was bad...really really bad, and…” Peter swallows nervously, “It really sucked and-and-and I hated it.” He then shakes his head, probably to snap out of whatever his mind is trying to relive, “But yeah, um...I kinda sorta know how you feel, I think...if that helps.”

The genius sighs in despair. He never thought in a million years that he could actually relate this much to a third-grader, what has his life become?

Thinking that Peter will do nothing but nag until he opens up, the man decides to give it a shot, voice not much above a whisper, “I was kidnapped.”

He looks at his patient from the corner of his eye and sees his eyes widen in utmost shock, which Tony expected. The tyke then turns directly toward him, arms wrapped around the armrest closest to the middle console, “Really?!”

Tony silently nods his head.

Peter then says, confusion in his tone, “I-I thought only kids got kidnapped.”

“Nope, you can get kidnapped at any age...but you never think about it ever being  _ you, _ y’know?”

The boy nods his head, “What happened?”

“Well,” Tony spends a few seconds trying to figure out how to word it without scarring the kid, “Before I started helping people like I’m helping you, I used to make and sell weapons to the military, guns, tanks, stuff like that.”

The kid responds, not taking his eyes off of his doctor, “Uh-huh.”

“Well, I was in the Middle East showing off some new ones we made. I was in the car with a few soldiers, on my way to the airport to come back home...when we were ambushed.” The billionaire pauses to look at the kid, “You know what ‘ambushed’ means?”

“Yeah, it means the bad guys attacked you without you knowing, right?”

“Yep, exactly. So yeah, I got caught up in it and...I was knocked out.” 

_ More like blasted out but eh, whatever. _

Tony takes another deep breath, “And I woke up in a cave.”

Peter’s eyes bug out even more, “Whoa...that  _ is _ scary.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Wait, caves are dark and scary, could you see?”

“Yeah...they were  _ so kind _ to me that they put in a few lights so I could see my way around.”

The boy half-smiles at the sass but it falls as quickly as it came, “Wait...they  _ trapped _ you in the cave? You couldn’t get out?”

“Nope...no, I couldn’t get out.” Tony looks over at his client and sees the hurt in his eyes, but what scares the man is seeing what also seems to be  _ understanding _ in that kid’s look as well.

_ Oh God, what wound did I just reopen? _

Tony dials it back, “So yeah...that happened...that’s what my freak-out was about.”

Peter ignores that last sentence, hands clutched so tight on the armrest that his knuckles have turned pale, “You know what it’s like to be trapped?”

The man takes a few more deep breaths, hell-bent on keeping everything at bay this time, and confirms, “Yeah...I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

There is a brief lull of silence before the tyke says, voice barely audible, “Me either.”

The therapist swerves to the other lane in shock. How does this kid know what it’s like to be trapped?

He wants to ask, Tony wants to ask so badly that he can barely stand it, but he can’t, he  _ can’t, _ because what if asking him scares the kid into not saying anything? He can’t risk it.

The kid then moves from his position and is now staring out the windshield, one hand fidgeting with the hem of his shorts and the other with an arm of his glasses. Tony’s leg that isn’t occupying the pedals starts bouncing in both dread and anticipation.

_ What the hell did he mean by “trapped”? _

Tony still doesn’t say anything. The newfound stillness starts making him damn near stir-crazy and he keeps giving the kid nervous glances without him knowing.

_ C’mon, talk to me, please talk to me, kid. _

Peter curls his legs to his chest and wraps one arm around them, other hand still fidgeting with his glasses. He takes in a deep breath of his own and buries his head behind his knees as he confesses, “S-S...S-S-Skip...he’d trap me in my room when he did stuff.”

For about the thousandth time since he took in Peter as a patient, Tony’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

It’s to be expected, someone being forced against their will, of course they’d feel trapped - both physically and mentally - but Tony has a feeling that there is more to this than he thinks.

Determined to keep the kid talking, the doctor hesitantly asks, “How so?”

Peter whispers, not leaving his position, “Um...y’know...lock me in. If...if-if I got away from him, he-he-he made sure I didn’t go far.”

Tony’s eyes widen in surprise, “You’ve gotten  _ away _ from him before?”

The boy nods his head, “Yeah, um, a few times. Before he would-he would, uh...lock me in, I would, um...kick him...‘down there’ and I could get away from him and hide. He always found me but...at least I got away from him for a little while….”

The man smiles at his patient, pride evident on his face, “I’m very proud of you, kiddo.”

_ At least the sick fuck felt  _ some _ pain. _

A smile barely escapes the tyke before it disappears, “So that’s what I did until he started locking the door...it was locked on the inside, so...so I  _ could _ get out...but he was always faster than me.”

Tony’s look then turns into one of sympathy. The words, “I’m sorry” are on the tip of his tongue but he refrains from saying them. Peter doesn’t need - and probably doesn’t  _ want _ \- to hear those words, he already knows his doctor is sorry...the kid just wants him to listen.

The billionaire then decides to ask a question that’s starting to nag him, “What would happen after, after, uh...that...if you don’t mind me asking.”

Peter shrugs, still fidgeting with his glasses, “He’d go watch TV or something...he didn’t talk much...he still kept the door locked.”

That throws the genius for a loop, “Wait,  _ what? _ Your doors had locks on the outside too?”

The child shakes his head, “No, I never really knew how he did it...I think he put a chair against the doorknob or something.”

Tony can’t wrap his mind around what he just heard, “But...but  _ why?” _

Again, the eight-year-old shrugs, “Probably to keep me from the phone...he didn’t want me to call May or Ben or anybody...he was afraid that I would call and tell them….”

_ What the shit? _

Most - if not, all - landline phones are cordless now, why didn’t Skip just  _ hide _ the damn phone? Or was that another power play that the pervert got off on?

The mechanic then asks, “How long would you stay in your room?”

Peter hesitates for a few seconds before answering, “Until Aunt May or Uncle Ben got home.”

Tony’s jaw drops to the floor of the car, “Peter, that had to have been  _ hours _ -”

“I know, but...it’s not like I could do anything even if the door wasn’t locked...it would...it would hurt too-too much to, uh, to move and...yeah.”

The man still can’t believe everything he’s hearing, “Oh my God, Peter...what if you got hungry?  _ God, _ what if you had to use the bathroom?”

“I got good at hiding snacks, and...” Peter’s cheeks redden profusely, “Sometimes I made it, sometimes I didn’t...I know, I’m gross.”

Tony says softly, which directly contradicts with how much his blood is boiling, “Peter, you’re not gross,  _ trust me, _ you’re not gross in any way, shape, or form...your damn babysitter’s the gross one.”

Peter puts his legs back on the floor and sticks both hands under his thighs, “Yeah...he’s disgusting….”

Wait a second -

This isn’t adding up. Both guardians said that Skip wasn’t convicted because there was no evidence...but  _ how _ was there no evidence? The bed sheets would’ve easily had both sets of DNA, anyone would notice abnormal stains on them, especially a nurse and a cop.

The doctor asks, curiosity getting the best of him, “How did your aunt and uncle not find out about this?”

The tyke’s cheeks redden even more, if that’s even possible, as he stares at the car mat, “Um...um...th-the times when I didn’t...y’know...make it...um, I’d go on my bed, and then I’d tell them that I fell asleep and I wet the bed and I was too embarrassed to tell S-S-Skip...okay,  _ that _ part was true. And then I’d give them the sheets to wash but I’d roll them in a way to make sure they wouldn’t see anything.” He then takes in another breath and exhales, “But sometimes, I’d wash them, and my clothes, like when they got really tired when they’d get back from work and wouldn’t be paying attention.”

“You know how to work a washer and dryer?”

Peter looks up in confusion, “Yeah? Doesn’t everyone?”

_ Right, child genius, focus, Tony. _

It’s so sad to think that all of this went on right under May’s and Ben’s noses...if only they knew what kind of person Skip was from the beginning.

One slip-up could’ve made all the difference.

Peter then continues, “When we moved, I  _ begged _ May and Ben to get me a new mattress, so that old one’s done for. Uncle Ben had someone come and like...investigate it or something before we got rid of it...but Ben said they couldn’t find anything...whatever that means.”

_ Probably wasn’t enough DNA to get a sample, or whatever DNA they could get was most likely damaged...how fucking lovely. _

_ Skip’s the luckiest bastard in the world. _

Peter then finishes his confession, “So yeah...being trapped really sucks.”

“Yeah, you can say that again.”

“I like the new house so much better, I don’t have any locks on my door there.”

_ Oh my God. _

The realization hits Tony like a sack of bricks, “That’s why you don’t like closed doors.” He didn’t mean to say it out loud but  _ holy shit, _ everything makes so much more sense now.

He sees Peter start to tear up and guilt floods him instantly. Before the doctor has the chance to apologize, the boy stares at the car floor again and says between sniffles, “I just-I just...what if the door just locks...and what if I can’t get out?” He lets out a sob before finishing his confession, “I don’t wanna be trapped again, Mr. Stark.”

Tony looks on in sympathy as the kid sobs and wipes away a few tears that have formed. He thinks back to all the times that a door was never closed: in and outside the office, Peter’s bedroom, the nurses’ office at school, hell, even whenever they’re in the car, a window is always cracked.

The man knew in the back of his mind that Skip was the reason for that anxiety but damn, it’s still hard to hear.

He then tries to soothe his patient’s nerves, “I don’t blame you, I know how scary it is to be locked in somewhere, to be  _ trapped _ somewhere, there’s nothing wrong with being cautious.”

Peter looks at the older man and unexpectedly snaps, still sniffly, “Yeah there is! A door has to be open, no matter what room I’m in, do you know how annoying that is?! Even when I use the bathroom, the door has to be cracked.” He then lowers his tone to a whisper, “I’m a freak.”

Tony takes no offense to the outburst, he may not have quirks of that caliber, but he understands the frustration, the wanting to be normal but he  _ can’t, _ this recent anxiety episode proves it.

The genius then says encouragingly, “You’re not a freak, everyone’s got quirks. Hell, if you’re a freak, then I’m a freak too.”

Peter wipes away a few more tears before he looks back at Tony with wide eyes, “You’re not a freak! Are you just calling yourself that ‘cuz of your freak-out?”

_ “Oh  _ yeah, freak-outs are annoying, scary, embarrassing, why wouldn’t I call myself a freak?”

“And I get them too...wait, you said that other people get freak-outs too, right?”

“Yup, tons of people do...it’s sad to think about but it’s true.”

Now the tyke looks confused, “But if a ton of people get them...then it’s not freaky anymore...’cuz doing something freaky means that it’s not normal and like no one does it...but _tons_ of people get freak-outs....”

Tony refrains from grinning at knowing his plan is working, “Exactly...wanna know something else?”

“What?”

“A lot of people also don’t like being in enclosed spaces.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“So...if a lot of people don’t like that...then we’re not freaks...then  _ I’m _ not a freak….” 

Tony gives him a smug smile, “Nope, you’re just a regular kid, kid.”

The child’s eyebrows narrow, “You did that on purpose.”

The man playfully scoffs, feigning innocence, “Oh,  _ whatever _ do you mean?”

“You got me to tell myself I’m not a freak, you  _ planned _ that.”

Tony grins fully, “I don’t like that you keep talking down about yourself, it’s not healthy  _ and _ it’s not true. And me reassuring you all the time doesn’t seem to be helping,  _ sooooo _ I had to improvise.”

Peter then gives him a look of surprise, “Huh...um, thanks...so I’m definitely not a freak.”

“Correctamundo.”

“And you don’t think you’re a freak, right? You just said that to get me to say that  _ I’m _ not a freak?”

“Yep...I do have doubts sometimes, everyone does...but I know I’m not a freak.”

Peter says shyly, “Good, ‘cuz I actually think you’re kinda cool.”

The billionaire chuckles at that, “You clearly don’t know me very well if you think  _ I’m _ cool.”

“But you are!” The kid turns to face his therapist and props his elbows on the armrest before resting his head on his palms, “You’re really nice, you don’t give me those sad looks as much as May and Ben do, and we actually  _ play _ games, you don’t just let me win and it’s  _ sooo _ boring when all the grown-ups let me win all the time.”

The man then starts laughing, “I’ve never known a kid to be happy about  _ not _ winning all the time.”

“It was fun at first, but then one time, me, May, and Ben were playing Clue and it was  _ so _ obvious who the murderer was but Uncle Ben guessed the wrong person on purpose, it got kinda annoying after that.”

Tony hums in agreeance, “I can see that, games are supposed to be fun, everyone forgets who won a few minutes after playing anyway.”

“Exactly! Why can’t it just be a normal game, normal games are more fun.”

“Maybe you should purposely suck at whatever game you play next, to the point where May or Ben would _have_ to win to put everyone out of their misery.”

Peter’s eyes brighten, “That’s a good idea! And then when they see that I don’t care if I lose, maybe they’ll actually play normal again.”

“Hey, it’s worth a shot.”

“Or  _ you _ could play with us!”

_ Say what now? _

Tony hesitates, “Um...I don’t know, kiddo -”

“Can we, sometime? Please?”

The man hesitates again before giving in, “Sure...we’ll see.”

_ I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I? _

But then Tony looks at the adorable grin that this munchkin is sporting and his heart  _ melts _ at the sight...eh, maybe he  _ won’t _ regret this, he thinks.

The mechanic then starts heading back into the direction of his office when he looks at the time on the radio. He turns to his client with his own grin shown on his face and says, “Thank you.”

Peter’s look turns to confusion but the smile doesn’t falter, “For what?”

“For helping me, silly goose, and...for telling me...that wasn’t easy, I’m proud of you.”

The young genius blushes at that, “Um...you’re easy to talk about this stuff to.”

“Oh yeah?”

The child nods his head, “Uh-huh, um...I can’t explain it, but you’re just...I don’t know but I...I don’t feel as embarrassed talking to you. I mean, it’s still embarrassing but...you don’t make me feel bad about it.”

_ My heart is gonna burst into a million rainbows. _

“Because you have nothing to feel bad about,  _ ever.” _

“See? Stuff like that, it always makes me feel good, so...thanks for that.”

Tony responds with a heartfelt wink before saying, “Anytime.”

“Um…” the kid then gets an uneasy look on his face, “Can you, um...not tell May and Ben what I said? Um...they don’t know why I don’t like closed doors….”

“No worries, kid, nothing leaves this car...can you not tell them about my freak-out...or  _ anything _ I told you today?”

_ The last thing on this earth that I want is more pity. _

Peter hastily nods his head, “Uh-huh, yeah I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” The doctor smirks as he props his elbow on the armrest and holds out his pinkie.

The boy’s eyes light up and quickly locks the pinkie with his own, “Pinky promise.” 

When they separate, said boy then timidly asks, “Um...can you drive more often?”

“You like it when I drive?”

“Yeah, it’s um, it’s nice. I don’t know why but I like it.”

“Me too...it’s why I wanted to go for a ride today. There’s just something about it that calms me down.”

“Maybe it’s ‘cuz the car’s never made us feel bad.”

Tony snorts, “Could be, I mean, this baby’s never let me down.”

“They’re definitely better than people.”

“Man, I need that sewn on a pillow.”

Peter giggles as they pull into a parking spot by Tony’s office building. They haven’t even gotten out of the car yet when Ben pulls up next to them. The boy then races to his uncle as the man gets out of the car, vehicle still running, “Uncle Ben! We went on a drive today.”

The officer eagerly picks up his kid and gives him a hug, “Yeah, Mr. Stark told me, how was it?”

Peter hugs back and when they pull away, he wraps his hands around his guardian’s neck, “It was fun! Well...we talked a lot about stuff but other than that, it was fun. I-I uh, asked him if we could drive again sometime.”

“It’s good with me if he doesn’t mind.” The cop puts his kid down and tells him, “Go on and get in the car, I gotta talk to Mr. Stark for a minute.”

Peter nods his head but before he gets in the car, he surprises his doctor by giving him a hug and saying, “Bye, Mr. Stark, uh, I’ll see you next Wednesday, I guess?”

Tony can’t help but smile as he hugs back, “Yup, same time, same place. Bye, kiddo.”

Once the boy gets in the car and cracks his window, Tony turns to Ben, “Sorry, I know that was a bit spontaneous,” he gestures to his car, “But it helped a lot, honestly.”

“I’m glad it did. Uh, question: does he keep a window cracked when he’s with you?”

“Yeah, without fail.”

Ben sighs dejectedly and lowers his voice so his nephew won’t hear, “Is he gonna grow out of it?”

The therapist copies the tone, “It’s hard to really say, but I think so. I’ve thought about trying a couple things to possibly help him but my main focus is still tackling his...history.”

_ Okay, I didn’t actually think about doing anything until right this second but eh, guess I’m doing that now.  _

The other man seems to hesitate before saying, “It’s just, this started after Skip happened, the cracked doors and windows and...I don’t know, I don’t know….”

Tony sympathizes. As much as he wants to tell Ben, he keeps his promise to the kid, “I’m glad you said that, that was my guess too. I’m hoping the more comfortable he gets with...everything, it might could heal itself over time, but...there’s no exact technique to figure this out, unfortunately.”

“If only life was that easy, huh?”

The billionaire half-smiles, “Yep...but then I’d be out of a job and I just wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

Ben chuckles at that, “Thank you for taking him out today, it looked like it helped him.”

_ You don’t know the half of it. _

The officer speaks again before Tony can respond, “If you wanna do this again in the future, you, uh, you got my blessing.”

Tony holds out his hand for the other man to shake, “Thanks, Ben, I might take you up on that, actually.”

Ben returns the handshake and after goodbyes are said, the two clients leave, with Peter waving at his doctor from the other side of the window.

The genius gets in his own car, not even going to try and bother with end-of-the-day paperwork, and starts the engine. However, instead of leaving, he sits back in his seat and takes a few minutes to just...think about nothing.

Okay, the thinking-about-nothing doesn’t actually work but it does help him calm down...and realize how fucking exhausted he is.

He thinks back to that car ride. Funny how the lie that he texted Ben earlier turned out to not be a lie, after all; the kid opened up a lot more than Tony himself did, and the car ride was  _ his _ idea. 

As the doctor drives the back way home to avoid five o’clock traffic, he really thinks about Peter, not just in regards to this excursion but the past few times he’s opened up as well.

Yes, the Scrabble game helped out a ton, but the kid also revealed a lot when they were under a table, when Tony took him to bed, hell, even the car ride before this one when Peter admitted he was being bullied was progress.

It’s almost as if the boy has become more comfortable talking when he’s not in a professional setting like his therapist’s office.

A plan hypothetically smacks Tony upside his head.

_ Huh...that’s not a bad idea.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!!!!!! I'm also on Tumblr @baloobird


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